


And We Run

by Persephone_Raine



Series: Like a Moth To Flames [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Fallout 4, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Adventure, Betrayal, Childhood Trauma, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Hate Crimes, Hate Speech, Heartbreak, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Racism, Post-Apocalypse, Post-War, Recreational Drug Use, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-06-29 00:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 105,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15717981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephone_Raine/pseuds/Persephone_Raine
Summary: ~And let me crawl inside your veins, I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain. It's not like me to be so mean. You're all I wanted... Just let me hold you... Like a hostage.~“Who let the ghoul in here?” Her brother growled, knuckles digging into the top of the table when he stood. His teeth were clenched and the ghoul’s eyes lazily drifted over to him with nothing less than disinterest. Then they went to her, and her breath left her at once. Seeing the familiarity of doe in headlights he flashed her a crooked smile showing a mouthful of perfect teeth despite the dried apricot skin of his. Handsome.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'mma attempt a new fic here and I'mma fuckin' wing it. This is a whole new playground for me so bare with me.

Rowan coveted adventure, to explore outside the limitations of Vault 81. The closest she ever got was the chapters in the books She read her diminutive light boudoir. Seldom, they evoked her of the hands that slithered up from the shadows when she was undertaking sleep, fingers cold and skeletal encompassing her throat depriving her of the essence of life. She could remain here, but she wouldn’t accurately be. It was the corresponding old petty underscore of who was banging who. The tautness of undercover chem heads who took off to the wastes for supplies only to come back with a few rounds of ammo and a whole lot of jet.

So the day a badass ghoul edged past the ostentatious door of the community Rowan’s head damn near ruptured. This place recalled to her of the Aryans from the second World War. Shield the right of tolerance. She roosted herself at one of the tables in the cafeteria busying herself amidst anything else but the pitiful life girdling her. She glanced up from where she rested gathering her brother’s piercing consumption of troubled breath next to her. “What?” She inquired, regarding the husky male next to her. Alex just glowered like he testified a murder and the perpetrator unraveled himself right before him.

She accompanied the familiar hazel eyes to see the ghoul attired in something from the historical records. Behind her glasses, her pupils expanded with enthusiasm. He carried himself with a pretentious swagger behind the heels of someone else in a superior vault suit 111.

“Who let the ghoul in here?” Her sibling upbraided, knuckles sifting into the top of the counter when he stood. His teeth were tensed and the ghoul’s perceptions nonchalantly cruised over to him with a trifle less than disinterest catching his upheaval. They lingered like colossal black lights in a supply closet on a lonely broom. Alex's stomach dropped. Like staring into the eyes of death himself, he thought.

Then they went to Rowan and her breath left her at once from genuine astonishment.

Seeing the familiarity of doe in headlights he reflected her a curved smile showing a mouthful of perfect teeth despite the dried apricot skin of his. Handsome. She felt her flush rising quickly ducking away behind the pages of her book.

“Disgusting.” Alex scowled, looking down at her. He didn’t seem to remark on the abrupt correspondence thankfully. “We started letting ghouls in?” He muttered.

“Maybe he’s here on business.” Her opinion was petite, but her affairs with the new strangers were wide open.

She couldn’t prevent herself from watching the couple that waltzed in together. Next to the ghoul was a towering brooding man with chiseled cheeks, but a comely grin as well. His eyes were kind, as well as was his demeanor. Two dashing men, one more accepted than the other. Her eyes traveled to Hancock heeding the jaunty face that used to remain before the rads ate him away like maggots on trash. Sensing the stare, he angled his smokey eyes to her. Rowan couldn’t stop watching, it was something so… So new.

The man in the vault suit seemed to catch his eye and tailgated his track of mind, turning to mutter something with an animatedly secret murmur in his ear. In reply, the ghoul chuckled. It was low and raspy, but still human, not at all like the few that’d come through here before appearing on the verge of converting feral. She determined herself wanting to hear it again. Alex caught on this time and was expeditious to bounce in front of her cutting off the strangers’ view and her own. Please don’t start a scene, She begged. Flickering her jasper eyes up to him she clenched the volume to mask part of her face behind it like a child being scorned by her father.

“What are you doing?” He buzzed under his breath. “Do you have any idea who that is?”

Rowan shook her head deliberately eyes slowly sauntering when she heard the cool one-two step of muddy boots on clean linoleum floors. “That’s Mayor Hancock. Of Goodneighbor.”

Oh.

She saw the retreating figures from under his buff arm. They were left behind with silence that was screaming way too loud to be comfortable. Well, besides her elder brother’s blistering pants of agitation and pure venom.

“So..?” She pushed again. She dropped the novel down to stare at him frankly. “He’s probably here on business.”

The necessity of disrespect in her tone made him drop his head disappointingly.

She sighed out muttering, “Why are you upset with me now?” As if it wasn’t the most obvious thing.

“You looked at him like he was something… Worthy of something other than fucking…” He wrung his hands together. He struggled a while irregularly blundering over his words.

Like a poet, Rowan spoke but drenching with animosity, “Dignity?”

Alex snapped his cold eyes down at his younger sister, scoffing. “Ghouls don’t deserve any sort of appreciation. They’ll just go feral anyways.”

Her heart wrenched violently.

Sure, ghouls seemed unconventional, but she didn’t appreciate all the post-war hate for them. Her teachers often dismissed them as just zombies on a route to mania. The few she met in her life of being here she didn’t feel that was the case. Alex kept her closeted away like some treasure. Like if anyone from the outside even breathed her way she’d dissipate her interpretation. “But the man with him-”

She began to quarrel.

He thumped his palms down with a sense of finality. “Is just as much trash as the ghoul. Got it?”

She inaugurated her mouth to dispute his claim, but he turned to mutter over his shoulder, “It’s almost time for you to sleep.”

She hated it.

She hated everything about being here. Everyone had a set bedtime, lunch, dinner… She was a matured woman.

Well, eighteen was regarded as one, but she exhibited a child being overpowered to exist between two sequestered progenitors. Her brother is the daddy, and the vault being the mommy. “I’ll be a moment.” She gritted out. She forced her glasses up her nose with a finger watching him retreat down the hall.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the glimmer of red. The ghoul - Hancock - was leaning his shoulder on a nearby wall scrutinizing her. There wasn’t any hint of that gallant crooked smile on his face, but something like intrigue. She wanted to ask a million inquiries, aspired to apprehend what external circumstances existed for someone like him, what brought them here. She doubled up tucking her book under her arm flashing him a modest grin. There was astonishment on his rugged face for a moment. Like some prewar cowboy, he tilted his hat down in acknowledgment. She flushed again and darted away to hide where those eyes couldn’t find her.

Distantly, his laugh wafted back behind her. It reverberated in her head as her chamber doors hissed closed leaving her with the bookshelves hugging her in their crushing embrace once more.

The following few days after went by uneventfully. The sole wanderer alongside Hancock was some sole survivor from some nearby vault. Vault 111, it was one of the cryogenic vaults. He was the only one, so it seemed. During her unfettered freedom from her tumultuous school days and busying herself at her job in vault’s archives, its own little library set up near the end of the vault, she did some research. People didn’t fancy treading due to the length it took, how disconnected it was sometimes from everything else.

Rowan loved hiding in the corners when it was quiet busting up on some new book someone recovered from the Commonwealth.

She was convening on a stool in the curving room when she heard the laughter from afar. The heels of her foot rested on the leg of the stool, bright auburn hair falling over her shoulders as she read. The laugh warmed her belly, and it was full of tobacco. Abundant of the dreams in the night you don’t venture to tell someone else. Her eyebrows shot uplifting her gaze from above her spectacles watching the robust shadows ascending onto the room.

“Why are we here again?” Hancock asked, their footsteps clattering over the metal floors.

“I told you, we need to recover some work, they have intel on the bogeyman.” Came the sole survivor.

She tangled one foot behind the ladder between the stool columns the other yanking her into a running position. She toppled over with an “Oof!” And a tremendous clatter.

"Ya hear that?” Came that infamous cigarette and bourbon drawl of Hancock.

The shadows stopped both elongated silhouettes turning to watch like large triangles in her direction. Yanking her foot back with a violent kick she whisked up flinging her back against a bookshelf. She perilously strung her fingers through the out of place hair to try and act as if this wasn’t some total form of the surprise for the vault girl.

And she didn't just fall over from how nervous she was.

“Hm.” Hancock nudged the oscillating furniture with the toe of his boot, closest to her. “Seems like we scared someone else.”

The other man laughed. “Seems to be something you do." Nate ducked when he threw a book.

Hancock snorted in bemusement, “Fuck you, prince. My shit personality outshines my ugly mug.”

Prince.

Hancock and Prince.

Those were those outsider’s names.

She felt so patent using a derogatory term around here. Wanderers. Adventurers. They were adventurers. She inhaled shakily billowing onto the ball of her shoulder turning to expose herself when hot whiskey breath puffed right on her cheeks when she faced him.

She wondered if he expected her to flinch and run, jerk back like she was having a seizure on her feet. She gasped lowly her eyes widening at his intoxicating closeness.

Hancock declined his forearm on the books above him leaning with a piercing smug grin. “Whatcha hidin’ for, doe?” He asked, dripping off charisma and sensuality. He was such a flirty spirit for someone like him but it fit the mayor well.

She retained her speech as level as feasible, “I wasn’t expecting visitors.” She took a step back more for her benefit, to see him up close. Catch the scars on his face seeing where his facial muscles had been for his cheekbones. He had no nose, but it was so interesting-

“Hey, now,” He purred curling a knuckle under her chin dipping her gaze up to his eyes instead of his protruding form, “Eyes up here, doe. Never seen a ghoul in spitting distance, eh?”

As much as she detested to perform in his ploy, she shook her head in reply. “Never so... Intimately.” She realized catching the corner of her lip with her teeth.

Hancock snickered at her choice of words. “You scared of monsters?” He mocked patronizingly. “‘Cause I could eat ya right here.” Something like satire immersed his tongue rotating out of his thin mouth, and she cracked a grin. He was as smooth as melted chocolate. That little bit of surprise colored his eyes for a moment when she bestowed something too peremptory from this wicked hole in the ground pricks.

“Monsters are who you make them.” She told him with a sort of mystical edge in her tone. “Me, you, and the overseer. Could be not a who, but a what.”

Hancock blinked really not in a good state of mind for this cryptic shit. “Yeah,” He drawled out, looking over his shoulder to Nate, who's eyebrow was cocked up. “Nice meetin’ ya, kid. Busy ghoul’s gotta hit the road again.” Without another word, he pushed himself up breaking their lingering their eye contact.

“Hancock.” She spoke. “You didn’t meet me without saying names.”

He tipped his hat to her with that devastating half smile of his. “You know mine. Yours?”

“Rowan.” She responded.

To her surprise, he grinned at that. “Think doe is better you. Matches that curtain in your eyes I wanna open.” And he swiveled out leaving her feeling something filthy curl in her stomach.

The inclination to know Hancock’s mind, to perceive what a ghoul is. Who they are.

Who he is.

She wanted to distinguish the outside atmosphere, welcome the tingles of rads on her skin at least once. Sure, the Commonwealth was critical. She wanted to appreciate that jeopardy. To survive.

To live.

But transpiring around a ghoul was as immeasurable as it got, for now, she surmised. To know beings like him, that weren’t really beings at all. No more than the definition of human. A ghoul, for someone who’s been severely burned? They were still able to decipher sentiments, to conceive knowledge for themselves, have full function… Why do they get degraded like they still don’t have a beating heart and a fully rational genius?

Maybe steady was pushing it, in the mayor’s case. He did a lot of chems and killed a lot of people. She heard it from Danny who heard it from Sally, overhearing the conversation from Kathy, started by the Overseer. Wow. Thinking it like that made her that much meagerer now. They reside in such a stationary yet orbicular place. They are bound by the four walls at every turn you make. Rowan didn’t want this, not like this. She would operate her way out somehow, influence the overseer to do research for the archives.

It’d never work, not without hopefully gaining some of Prince’s trust. Hancock was never gonna have the opportunity so she hoped the sole survivor would be pleasant and win the vault’s trust over. It was shallow to know that yes, she knew how severe these things she wanted were. There were such things like radroaches and mutated crabs that pinched heads off like pickpocketing coins off a rich man. But she craved that boost, even if meant dying.

Okay, no, that was dark. She’d go just to experience it for a few days. She’d stay nearby just in case she fell in imminent danger. The vault could still find her and help to some degree. Maybe. She locked up the door jams when she left the library. She had class the following day, something about anatomy. She still had homework left to do as well as to find the time to eat too. Did it same lame that there were people like Prince out exploring such a grand place? And her being glued to a chair, a board, and a projection being fed false positives. Rowan grumbled with a stomp in her foot, impatience flushing through her like a stimpak being shoved in her brain. She wanted to know.

She would make Hancock talk next time he came in. She would get one on one interviews, recite it in her favorite page of her most loved book. That way when she ever felt down she could read and just… imagine. That’s all the luck she had. To live through the eyes of someone else. They could still lie and tell you stories that never happened, but it’d still be such comfort of knowing something bigger is above them.

Alex was waiting with his hands on his hips his cowlick slicked back exposing his squared jaw, bulky eyebrows, and a scowl the size of Massachusetts. Which still isn’t too big, but still. “Did you see that ghoul fucker today? They came right in like they were welcomed!”

Feigning virginity she shook her head innocently. “Nope. Angelica mentioned it when she came back earlier. Sad I missed them.” She passed by just to fill her tray with fresh carrots and a bottle of Nuka Cola. She could feel his heated stare boring holes in her jumpsuit, but she ignored him. “They’re a learning experience.” She said.

She pulled her red locks into a knot at the top of her head just so she could eat without making her hair a sudden spaghetti and carrot topper. Her brother never shared her ideas when it came to surviving in the vault and living on the outside. Her passion for education was destroying the only line of family between the two. “They show you to never leave the Vault.” He ground out. She knew that’s why he held on so tightly to her. He wanted to disown her, truthfully. He knew there would come a day she’d succeed in running away.

She was a very intelligent rat. He didn’t wanna have jack shit to do with her when that happened. Since that ghoul came bouncing around he’d filled his woman child’s head with medieval fantasies of a flesh and blood world. He’d seen the sin in that monster’s eyes when he watched Rowan with such lusting laps of him scouring her like meat. He wanted to kill him. No ghoul should even think of comparing themselves to such a brilliant pure being.

To think his sister seemed to have some weird perversion, wanting to know more of them. She was always that way when any abomination scattered through here. Last time he locked her away, just to make sure she didn’t step out of line. He kept finding things for her to do so she never saw the ghouls, and when they were there, she would be too busy to notice. He wanted her to understand they were monsters. Not friends.

But Rowan was adamant. Stubborn. A bull. And when she looked at him from over the vegetable in her mouth he saw that light. The same one the vault splayed when it rolled open. Round, bright, around, bright. And her eyes were indicating them without even having sight of them. She wanted to operate with the ardor in the Commonwealth.

She wanted to inflame fires and watch it all rage around her.


	2. Chapter 2

There were a hustle and bustle amidst the academy youngsters this morning, Rowan noted as she made her way from her antechambers releasing her hair from its hold in the collar of her vault suit. She wasn’t sure why until Katy approached her so calmly when there was this much action. Possibly so she could elude the vengeance of her brother. She tarried until he retired to the lower level to strike like a trouble stewing aunt.

Rowan was leaning her lower half against the wall cradling a book spine in her palms getting lost in its world the portal of words opened up. It wasn’t any secret to the other residents her love of reading, of knowledge. “Row,” Katy greeted. The scholar blinked when she was forcibly hauled from the saucy love triangle of Macbeth to the atmosphere of olden times cremating back into the old same gray walls.

“Katy.” She offered her a tender smile, closing the book around her thumb to keep track. “Hi.”

“You’re not too busy this morning are you?” Her eyebrow arched up her lips puckering into a shit eating smile. “I think you might wanna stick around for story time with the kids today. The sole survivor is gonna be telling stories to them.” Hearing the words she brightened up like she’d been kicked in the rear end.

Her grin was so vivacious it overtook the attention of two bodies ambling in like two battling siblings. Specifically, the mayor. "Move." Hancock gargled, shoulder stuck to the aching doorway from where Nate tried to force himself in at the same time. He looked up when he felt the soft caressing eyes that would poke at his tender scarred skin.

She was always around, Rowan. The one with the doe eyes. He didn’t know why they pulled him into her as a sailor lulled into seduction by a siren. But they did, perhaps because she was the only one ostensibly making any minimum of sense in this goddamn place. Nate didn’t miss the longing stare he cast to the vault girl and he had to fuck with him about it.

“Looks like your girlfriend is here.” Nate ridiculed elbowing Hancock with a laugh.

The mayor just gave him an erratic side eye flipping the box of cigarettes open with his thumb when he finally fit in the room. “Where’s yours?” He replied when he nudged one between his thin lips. “And the super mutant in the skirt doesn’t count.”

Nate opened his mouth to bite back a witty reply only to cough when the ghoul puffed smoke in his face. “You fucking dick-” He seethed playfully whirling to grab his hat when Gwen interrupted with a sharp jab of her throat.

The ghoul merely turned his sights to her, not giving this ghoul hating woman any other shot, a waste of his time. “You can’t smoke in here.” She informed him with an austere scowl over her aging face.

“My apologies.” The ghoul hummed. But the sharky grin contradicted the peaceful words. “Let me finish it, and I’ll keep it in mind later.” He was aware of the auburn-haired librarian watching the scene by the tables he first spotted her at. Those big eyes watched him behind the spectacles. He loved watching that innocent face flush with an immoral interest when he gave her that smile.

The one he gave all the ladies.

It was like attending a star, she thought. He made sure all concentration was on him, her eyes implying the flashing paparazzi cameras. The smoke curled around his rough face clutching the giant hat shading his face. He arose in a cloud of cigarettes and dust from the outside. His eyes were on her, and he jutted his chin up in greeting. There was that sheepish hint of a smile. He had very bad thoughts of seeing it, but with his teeth undoing that gaudy vault suit in the process. Then again, he had very big aspirations for the female form. He fell for any pretty face. Playing with her, for now, was as good as it was gonna get.

Rowan’s eyes were like emeralds preserved beneath crumbling rock and so goddamn large he swore that even without the glasses they wouldn’t change shape at all. She had such an exemplary appeal that drew someone as nefarious as him right to her. Opposites attract, and he wanted to corrupt that disposition, make her putty in his hands.

Rolling his upper body he pulled himself from leaning on the wall, eyes never once leaving hers. Hancock looked away only when Nate threw his elbow into his hardened middle. “Easy!” John clasped, a playful growl rumbling beneath it. “I’m soft below the eyebrows.” He commented pretending to brush off the ruffles on his shirt.

Nate just gave him a look saying, “Chill the fuck out.” In reply the ghoul batted his eyes feigning gullibility. Nate just shoved him, continuing to follow Katy’s way to the schoolroom.

Rowan just had a curiosity, that’s what everyone reasoned it out to be. She knew it was the compulsion to desire such a cataclysmic burn of the world after the war. Her heart was a bass drum humming along to the thrumming symphony of these newcomers. A wildfire ignited inside her fragile frame. She sat at the back of the classroom with a notebook sitting in her lap. She released her hair from the clip like racing waterfalls to see who could touch her back faster giving her some form of privacy from the nosy children. She wanted to recite every tale, to live in the words of Prince.

There was an excited prattle ringing around the room when the footsteps of multiple people broke through the childish solace of the room. Prince stepped through first nodding back to his partner who loomed in the shadow like a threatening presence ready to strike out at any moment. Rowan caught her lower lip between her teeth realizing that Hancock wasn’t aiming to be in the ring of attention. That, or the cries of children disturbed him and his focus on whatever was going on around him.

“This is Nate.” Katy introduced with as much excitement as Rowan herself. “He’s from Vault 111! He’s gonna tell us all these exhilarating stories from the Commonwealth!” The striking man, Nate, whom she’d been addressing as the prince, grinned. There was something biting at the edge of his demeanor, a soft pudginess. Rowan watched him with something like understanding. He must have been a father at some point, she guessed, or maybe an uncle. A brother.

Rowan unknowingly settled herself back in her seat with a shimmy, fingers creeping along the tip of the pen tighter as if it’d jump out and hang itself over them. Hancock watched her thankful part of his face wasn’t exposed to her, to show her just how appealing she was to him. She didn’t flinch from him, didn’t Blanche as that doctor had. Her lips pulled into a deep frown when that brother of hers degraded him to nothing but a puddle of guts and a rotting brain. He wasn’t far off from the truth, either.

She saw something in him, a draw to him. Hancock was known, was alien, a temptation of her befuddled smothered knowledge. She saw how delighted she got hanging onto Nate’s every word like it’d make or break the whole tower of stories in her head. Her hazel eyes grew wary when his words turned despondent, and she giggled with nothing but pure gratification to have this moment in her very presence. She was beautiful, he knew winsomeness when it graced his putrid existence.

A small hand shot up in the middle of the room. Nate acknowledged him with a simple cheerful, “What’s up, buddy?”

The blond kid gasped out as children do in their glamor, “Have you ever fought a deathclaw?!”

The ghoul’s attention went right to Rowan despite the kick in the ass he was giving himself for even considering her thoughts more than the average stranger. He wishes he hadn’t when he saw the scrawling pen jet to a halt that shrieked around the whole room.

Nate turned to look at him with his eyebrows raised. He’d promised to not tell any gory details as to not frighten the kids. Seeing the auburn’s legs kicking like she was running an imaginary race made Hancock think that maybe it was to keep Rowan from getting too big of a head. He shrugged, he didn’t give an inch of a fuck about these ghoul hating vault kids. He recalled a time a Deathclaw broke into Goodneighbor once. Though he'd wandered into a butcher shop, he thought.

“I’d tell ‘m.” He chuckled, hands going into his jean pockets systematically. “Sure they all need to know how the big bad lizard goes down.”

Nate breathed out a sigh then and fell into a dramatic story of him fighting off a deathclaw back in Concord. Rowan personally didn't look as if she believed a word that rolled off his tongue. She didn't seem to mind at all despite that. It was one of the first battles the two men procreated together, and he was impressed when he effortlessly took out the legs. They had a deathclaw steak that night, and goddamn if his old’ drifter instincts didn’t make it the best damn marinade…

“Aren’t you ever scared when you stumble upon creatures like them?” Rowan spoke, and Hancock leaned on the doorway of the classroom now, ankles crossed.

Nate looked to him with such a crooked smile that smugly said, “You’re gonna kick my ass.”

“Well, actually,” He drawled out apprehensively, leaning with his elbows braced on his knees and a gentle chuckle, “I never am, but my partner on the other hand here… I’ve never seen a ghoul so scared of his own shadow.”

The ghoul grumbled. How dare he try to soil his holy name. “You screamed like a bitch,” Hancock interjected sending a shocked gasp around the classroom at the curse word. Katy was glaring him down with the heat of a nuclear bomb herself. “So, your honor, yes. He gets scared. I’m as terrifying as it gets.” He turned to Nate. “Fuck you very much, Nathan.” He never thought he’d be so attracted to the sound of someone’s giggle. Rowan smothered her face behind the leatherbound book, from behind it he saw her shoulders shaking.

It resonated in her stomach he could picture her gut cramping from how hard she had to swallow to keep her sounds from launching around obscenely. It sounded like little gasps. She lost all strength to hold the obstacle before her and fuck if his chest didn’t tighten when he saw her face. Her beautiful eyes were scrunched up with a broadening grin stretching across her joyful expression. She was carefree and laughing at him. Hancock frowned, but it wasn’t at all heartfelt.

Nate sighed happily, knowing his favorite ghoul was gonna give him one hell of body slam for that later, but oh well. Seeing the flabbergasted shock running through him when his fancy expressed friendliness was beyond worth it. “I think that’s all the time we have for today.” Katy giggled under her breath undermining the adults in the room. “Say thank you!”

The classroom said a deflated thank you.

Rowan rose up the same time Nate did, Hancock shouldering himself up. She froze when she looked over at him catching him in movement. She shuffled her legs together patiently waiting for them to gain some spaciousness between them. She had to head to the library and didn’t have too much of a choice but to follow them out.

It was unique to see a human and a ghoul partaking in comradery. It was such a constructive example of the two getting along in unity. No hating each other, no ghoul trying to eat the limbs off of a man he’s been traveling with. Hancock and Nate were friends above all else. They protected one another like a brother in arms. Even if it got a little… Testy. That was something she wanted to know more about if she could ever get to that.

Tucking her pen behind her ear she adjusted her glasses with a triumphant grin rereading all the notes she took during his little presentation. She’d have to tuck this away where Alex couldn’t get to it. Fuck, what she’d give to live out there for just one day. Her fingers felt over the risen curves of the letters scrawled in the back of her journal completely unaware that Nate and Hancock were almost awaiting her entrance. So absorbed in the adventures she recited she didn’t notice the avid bickering at the end of the hallway.

It came to a slow stop when she turned around the corner of the corridor surpassing the elevator. Feeling the tense atmosphere she forced herself to pay attention to lifting her bedazzled eyes to see the lone survivor grinning over at her. “Taking notes in class?”

She blinked a few times in confusion. “Huh?” She felt embarrassed to be caught logging his personal adventures. “Oh, um, I won’t publish it, if you’re worried about that. It’s… For myself.” She finished with a nervous little smile. “Not all of us can go scavenging in the Commonwealth ya know.”

Nate softened visibly, “So we took notice.” Rowan exhaled softly glancing about to make sure there wasn’t anyone overhearing their conversation. Seeking out her brother. She looked to his soft brown eyes apologetically.

Then to Hancock who was standing nearby with a lit cigarette between his fingers despite the overseers warning to him. She shook her head with a low burst of snickers. Hancock’s mouth threatened to perk up in response, but he willed it away. “I wanna apologize, actually. For the stuck up providence of the dwellers. Mislead is a term best used.” She admitted.

Hancock looked taken aback. “You sayin’ it to me or the monster next to me?” The ghoul tapped out the ashes on the ground smugly enticed by the look of something dirty on the too clean floors.

“Well. More to you, Mr. Hancock.” Rowan’s expression was too understanding, and he knew his prediction about her had been right before. “Not everyone thinks the way the time progresses. Back before the war, it was all communists, African Americans…”

“Not it’s ghouls, super mutants.” Nate finished with a soft chuckle. “Pretty sad. I was hoping to see that was left back in my day.” He motioned to the pile of ashes by the ghoul’s feet the moment he caught the sickening aroma of cigarettes again. “Are you really gonna do that?”

The ghoul’s mouth quirked up into a crooked smile, “Do what?” He took a hit off the butt of his cigarette blowing it from his nostrils with a laugh. “Did ya want one?”

Nate coiled his fingers into fists launching himself at him the moment he flicked the butt at him instead of the ground where it toppled to once it bounced off his face.

Hancock was graceful with a glide of his boots against the linoleum floors never breaking that too-cool-for-you expression when he moved out of the way sending Nate flat on his face. “Checkmate.”

“It’s a thing called respect.” Nate groaned, rolling onto his elbows in an attempt to lift himself up. “I’m pretty sure Gwen asked you to not do that.”

Hancock shrugged like it was nothing. “She ain’t here is she?”He countered crossing his arms carelessly across his chest. “I ain’t got shit to worry about.” He was careless, cocky. It was yanking her crank inspiring the curiosity of this being. She knew she couldn’t be caught mingling with them, and if anyone saw… Alex would probably lock her up again.

Still, staring into those big obsidian spheres, she could see a lot. She could see a channel he had tuned out of the world’s view. Maybe she was analyzing everything with perception from her constant studying, or he was just more predictable.

“You likin’ what ya see, Doe?”

She smiled sincerely at him. Her face radiated a youthful soul untouched by the ravaging world outside and he envied her for that moment. “Curious.” She simply stated. To see something so new and predict an outcome much kinder than it really was.

Much to her surprise, he didn’t do that confident little snicker, not a twitch of the lips. His mouth was in a line pinching at the edge of bitterness. “Remain ignorant, kid. I ain’t the kinda ghoul ya wanna go divin’ too deep in.”

He turned then when Nate muttered, “Asshole. Leave her alone.” He threw her an apologetic smile over his shoulder signaling Hancock to follow him. “It was nice meeting you, Rowan.”

She tilted her head, puzzled. She hadn’t told Nate her name. The ghoul cast a small glance over his shoulder seeing the slight dejected crease forming between her brows. He fought himself all overseeing the gleaming embers of emerald in those big eyes of hers. She narrowed her eyes in question but gave no other attention to Hancock. She slid into the elevator shuddering away from the irritation nipping at the edge of her psyche. She knew Hancock was a dangerous man, questionable.

She watched the hands of the elevators tick and tock until they hit the middle floor unraveling the synonymous living chambers. It used to comfort her, the reflection of the navy and golden suits with their vault’s branding, the bright lights above. She used to love escaping to her room after a long day of playing with the other kids and curling up in the middle of her room with piles of books around her. She took turns reading a page or two from each one until they lay done, or she fell asleep curled up on top of them.

The ideas of the outside being such a scary place really, really began to enthrall her in a whole new idea of living. What would a pampered vault dweller know about kicking up radiated dirt? She’d expire within days, like most of the past residents had when they decided to explore. Then again, most of them were shunned. Her shoes clattered like claps from applause without the crowd. It was honestly a lonely collab of sounds.

She rounded into her room settling on the stark gray sheets of her bed recognizing just how foreboding it was against the all-metal room. It was so small compared to her brother’s next door. His bathroom was spacious. Hers was just a small attachment with enough room for a sink, toilet, and shower. She had just enough space for her elbows to not knock on the corners when she dried herself off. Silence. The familiar amenity of crisp papers whispering past her fingertips when she turned the page, puffing off the dust from a book time has since forgotten.

She swallowed the lonely lump in her throat brushing her fingers against the brawny spine of a copy of a dictionary. Every story, almanac, thesaurus, labeled by alphabetical order. After all, in this simple life, what more was there to do? Distantly, she thought she heard the clap of thunder. Stalling, it just the low hum of a Mr. Handy at work. Rowan blew out a vanquished cry under her breath sinking down on her desk.

Guess homework was all she had to look forward to. After all, there wasn’t anything interesting to her. To living this life.

“Do you have to be a dick to everyone you meet?” Nate demanded, lounging out on the bed the room Quinn supplied them with. The ghoul looked as conflicting as well… A sore thumb. Just seemed convenient he was dressed in all red turning round and round and round in the desk chair.

He turned his Delphian observation to him with one of indifference. “Just tellin’ her the truth. I’m fascinatin’ to her because I’m a kind of…” He thought for a moment retrieving the inhaler of jet form his coat pocket. He shook it a bit, inhaling with one big hit. “Perversion.” He blew out the puff of chems becoming one with the seat.

Nate tossed a pillow at him hotly. “Hey, I’m too high for this right now.” The ghoul complained throwing an extra drug his way. “Can’t help people besides you find me too sexy for my own good.”

The other vault dweller scowled over at him letting the comfortable silence linger on between them. It was clear they were both pretty run down from all the scouting they’d been doing all over the Commonwealth. They practically had to pry Deacon to leave this place after his cover damn near got blown by another security guard.

Just because they didn’t shoot on sight here didn’t mean they didn’t know their way around a pistol. “Rowan is different,” Nate said after a long moment. “And you know it as well as me. Thinkin’ we could use her help.”

The mayor didn’t hide the snarl bubbling up in him. “She’s weak. She ain’t ever seen the outside.”

“She’s book savvy.” He added after a moment. “She’s the librarian, right?”

“Her brother is also the overprotective daddy.”

The male snorted with laughter then making the ghoul jump at the sound. “Since when have you been scared of someone like that?”

Glaring, he muttered, “‘M not. Now shut up.” He dragged his hat down to cover his face tilting back with his feet kicked up on the end of the bed, “A ghoul needs his beauty sleep.”

“Where’s the beauty?”

Growling, the ghoul chucked a book off the corner of the desk hoping it hit Nate right where it hurt.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so much more intimate than I’m used to honestly. I’ve been feeling these vibes and muse for this and I can only hope to keep this flowing as easily as I can. Enjoy!

Nate and Hancock had been enjoying their stay in Vault 81. Well, the ghoul hadn’t, exactly. The residents made it clear he wasn’t too welcome, and John made sure he wasn’t too keen on their condescending pretenses. They’d been helping a few repairs there, a few favors for the residents there. Rowan spotted them in the tiny home but she never lingered too long. She wanted to avoid them at all costs to keep any more potential incidents between her and the ghoul at bay. She wasn’t angry, she knew that her slight desire to learn of him was gonna become a dangerous experiment if she kept on playing on the edge of research and personal desire.

He’d watch her like he was expecting some explosive reaction at the fact they kept popping in wherever she was.

She acted like he was no one other than some ordinary drifter passing on by in the fluid stream of in and outers despite her heavily implied interest.

She pulled her hair up tucking it in with pencils she fished from the cup on her desk. She continued adorning some of the bookshelves with the new additions the vault collected. “Think ya got some more room?” Hancock spoke alarming the girl.

She whirled with a book in hand ready to chuck it, glasses toppling to the floor when the corner of the edition clipped the handles. “Sorry.” She squeaked squatting down to pick up her spectacles with a quickness. She was eye level with the mayor who held them up taking the opportunity to study her.

The roots of her lashes were a dark brown accentuating the blue tones hidden under the russet rockiness of her eyes. There were pale freckles decorating her face covering her cute button nose. Once she adorned her glasses again he acted as if he hadn’t just been checking her out. “Nate found some books, we didn’t know if you had any room in here.” He dusted off the cover with a roll of his wrist. Rowan offered him a small smile that didn’t meet her eyes. She was being polite, he realized.

“Lemme see.” She drew her hand out to grab it, smooth palms meeting marred leathery skin of the top of his fingers. She jumped back just from respect, nothing like fear, no.

“I don’t bite... “ He purred seductively earning that blush back on her pale skin. Her pupils dilated from surprise, and he thought her the cutest thing at that moment. “Hard.” He added as an afternote. She watched his expression with eagle fierce eyes that didn’t miss a beat. She had the mind thought of a mercenary, except her weapon was her own mind. Her wit.

He was gonna test it.

He sauntered to the left leaving his back exposed to her. Rowan could have yelled out in relief sensing the growing formality in the room that truly didn’t belong there. The Great Gatsby. Tilting her head, she inspected the fading words fading off partly from age. The pages were a crisp yellow like the vault-tec jacket that her brother had hung up in the closet by his bed. She recalled a lot of references to it but never read it.

She shuffled back in the comfortable corner she perched herself at on quiet days, forgetting the presence of the ghoul no matter how hard he tried to make himself known. He turned to throw jibe her way about being a hermit only to see her busying herself in the copy of the classical tale he swiped from Daisy’s shop. Hopefully without her knowing. Tendrils of hair fell over her heart-shaped face her eyes darting around the pages. It was something of beauty, he thought. He could almost see the vivid images being painted inside her brain at the moment.

He could see the words turning into gears spinning through her vivid imagination. She curled up around it like a safety blanket. She gave off the babied persona. Like a fish out of water. He sat across from her tucking a knee up to his chest. Their eyes met, an angled eyebrow creeping up quizzically to taste her hairline. “Mister mayor,” Rowan said it more of a question. “Something I could help you with?”

“You like readin’?” The question was something innocent and she worried of the malice undertone to it. The narrow of her eyes was nothing less of suspicious. “Oh, easy there, doe.” He chuckled. “It’s a genuine question.”

Her answer was self-evident. “Yes.”

There was silence again leaving him to decide if he should really take this liberty and pick at the pieces of her head. “Believe it or not,” He began, reaching past her to grab a book from above her right shoulder. “I do too.”

Rowan slid the book to her lap doubtingly. She fingered the book pinching it closed with her fingers giving him her full attention momentarily. He grinned at that. “See? ‘M not so bad.”

“If that’s the case,” She folded her legs into a pretzel setting the publication in the hole there centered in her lap. “Name your favorite book and plot.”

“Lord of the Flies by William Golding.” He shot back confidently. “Heard of it?”

“Read it during my freshman year of high school.”

“Do you like it?”

She shook her head breaking out of her shy little shell a little. There ya go, he urged watching the tension roll of her shoulders. “I hated it, actually.”

Hancock mocked offense throwing his hand dramatically on his chest, “You wound me, doe. A personal attack against yours truly.”

She liked listening to him talk, she realized with both dread and excitement. Alex would kill her, but he was giving her more interest than anyone else had in a while. “I am personally not a big fan of this book. I think it is an interesting book to think about and discuss, but there wasn't a whole lot to keep me invested in the story.” She confessed.

Hancock found himself studying the lights flashing in her eyes when she spoke. Her voice was almost a soft comforting murmur, he didn’t know if it was in case anyone was listening, or if it was who she genuinely resonated with. “Great concept, decent execution, pretty dry writing. It didn't end where I thought and hoped it was going to.” She shrugged, sliding the book up to the desk next to her. She clenched her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them.

Hancock cursed when those strobe light eyes of hers landed on his like a bitter truth serum. “Why did you like it, mayor?”

He knuckled the tip of his hat up to see her better. “Man made the decision for me.” He looked to the side eying the paper flapping under the small oscillating fan. “This book is so true to what happens in the world today. When men tried to govern themselves and started the whole process with goodwill inside, but blinded with egotism and lust for power, tragedy, and destruction in society are inevitable.”

He smiled over at her a bare eyebrow-raising challenging her for a debate. “Human nature is corrupt, it only takes a trivial thing to make its nature controlled by nothing but malice. This book represents a perfect allegory for men. Culture fails repeatedly and no matter how hard we can repress it, nothing will ever stop the drive to become savages.”

The words itself were haunting to hear from someone so feared in this vault. He had a better understanding of humanity than some of them too. That only heightened her belief ghoul remained people despite their looks. “You see where you’re at.” She replied, a coy little smirk pulling on her pale pink lips. “These people round still have the xenophobic mindset of old days despite never really having too much of a reason besides hearsay.”

Hancock couldn’t dilute the grand snort. “That’s a fuckin’ understatement.” He fished out a cigarette from the pack in his coat pocket shaking out the little bit of tobacco leaking from the tip of it. “Made me feel like a piece of cake at a fat man convention.”

At that, she laughed. It was delightful of twinkle of chimes singing in the breeze. “I did mean it when I say I’m sorry. Not all of us are like that.”

Hancock let it roll on off like everything else. He struck the tip of the match lighting his cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “You ever been outside?” Her eyes widened in disbelief, “You kidding me?” She brushed the bangs escaping their hold back behind her ear without any avail. They fell right down again.

She shook her head rapidly cupping her palms over her knees. “Not a chance in hell. My brother - this whole vault - would skin me alive. I dunno if I’d be allowed back. But I’d love to experience the Commonwealth.” The adventurous endearment was almost disappointing because she definitely had no idea how nasty the world out there has gotten.

She must have read the thoughts in his mind, or his face gave it away. The bright in her eyes dimmed with the sobering blunder. “There are scarier things than me out there.” He told her with a smug sort of frown floating the cigarette down to rest on his filthy pants.

Her head tilted curiously, that spark - Right there - it was back. The electric spark heading to the gasoline between the two of them, ready to start a wildfire chasing after the car leaving behind the track of gas. “Tell me about them.” She muttered with a hushed murmur.

Her teeth flashed a brilliant white when his eyebrows shot up. “Do ya really wanna know? Don’tcha like… Write it down or somethin’.” Rowan thought about it for a moment, longing for the knowledge he had.

She didn’t have time to rush around finding paper, not when she was on borrowed time. “This will be between us.” She responded with a warm smile.

“Tell me what it feels like to live out there in a space of freedom, to make your own life.” Something about that line damned Hancock right then and there, but he pretended like she was just some hyperactive child. That’s what she was. No one special. “Sure, kid. Sit down, Doe. It’ll be a while.”

Nate was hoping that Hancock hadn’t done something stupid like a prank the overseer like he so powerfully spoke about doing. It’d been two whole hours, and he had to go check on that Austin kid. Brandishing his pipboy on his wrist and fucking around with the fastens he heard an uproaring commotion from the rec room area. He followed the sound with his eyes hastening his footsteps purely by instinct. “Has anyone seen Rowan?” Alex asked, a deep set frown on his face.

He couldn’t be more than around twenty-five with sharp green eyes and a round face beneath the groomed beard. His dark hair was slicked back exposing the smooth set of cheeks, round and baby-like. Doe’s keeper, he recalled from Hancock’s bitter reprimanding of the racist xenophobe.

“Is she missing?” Nate asked appearing around the crowd of vault dwellers.

Katy frowned disapprovingly turning to stare at Rowan’s older brother. “Honestly, Alexander. Give her some space. She is an adult now.”

They were continuing on with some prior conversation he’d missed out on until he realized something. There were almost all people in this place. Two were missing.

Rowan and Hancock.

“She didn’t show up to one of her classes again.” Alex barked menacingly. “She’s never gonna make it as a medic if she doesn’t get her fucking head out of the clouds. All of us have a role, she needs to play hers.”

Nate rolled his eyes intercepting between the teacher and maintenance man. “Do you ever think maybe you should let her choose and make decisions on her own?”

If he wasn’t angry before, this poor dude was seething. Practically foaming at the mouth. “You keep your filthy ghoul fucking mouth shut!”

Nate just snorted, a skeptic eyebrow shooting up, “Don’t knock it ‘til you tried it. My sex life aside,” He checked the time on his pipboy. Ten. He and Hancock had to check in on the Austin kid by eleven. So whatever he and this girl were getting into, they need to rush it, and quick. “She’s obviously wherever you guys have to hide it.”

“Check the library.” Katy sighed exasperatedly running her fingers through her hair. Becoming more alert the sole survivor shook his head immediately. There was a pretty good chance the two were hiding out. Hancock had brought her something from Daisy’s.

“Think I saw her head to her room not too long ago.” He lied smoothly, inching his head back behind him. “She was visiting with uh… The kid. The one with the cat?”

Alex glowered at him as he’d just murdered his whole family. Nate just nibbled on the skin of his cuticle looking more unbothered than jello settling after an earthquake. “Where’s your ghoul?” His eyes narrowed skeptically. “No way he’s wandering this place all alone unless he’s got a deathwish.”

Nate inhaled patiently through his nose muttering under his breath. “Hancock laughs in the face of death.” He countered. “So honestly, what I’m getting at is, he genuinely doesn’t give a shit.” He concluded with a purse of his lips.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Alex snarled taking a brave step closer to Nate. “He was with you earlier. Where is he?”

Nate honestly shrugged because he didn’t have a clue. He wasn’t an asshole to get one of his best friends in trouble, and something told him Rowan was occupying his time in hopefully - an innocent way - and he hadn’t corrupted the poor girl like he desired to do.

Alex stormed off past him with the gates of hell splitting open behind him. Katy looked to Nate with an eyebrow risen up. “Don’t mind him, he’s protective of his sister. Though he does pose a good question…” She glanced around the room muttering, “Where is your ghoul?”

Rowan didn’t wanna admit defeat right away. Her eyelids were so heavy, but the stories were so riveting that labored her eyes to stay upright. “Goodneighbor sounds cool.” She mused with a drowsy slur.

“Heh,” He cracked that half smile, “It’s a pretty good town if you love trying your luck at the aces, and always a good bet. It’s a place without judgment.” She really didn’t expect someone so arrogantly set to have a good set of morals. Maybe she should stop listening to everyone around here so often.

She hoped she could retain all of this, to keep it close to her heart. “What does the air taste like?” She asked. She expected Hancock to get restless with her seemingly pointless question. He could easily tell her to scream, kick rocks, let him leave.

“Why don’t ya step outside and see? Ya can’t even do that?”

Rowan shook her head those big eyes growing sad for the longing itching under her skin. “No.”

Considering his words carefully, he debated on feeding her some hopeful bullshit just so he’d at least give her something to look forward to. He was a straight shot kinda person, so, he didn’t have a choice but to break her heart if he had to. To shatter those pretty dreams of a perfect world beyond the confining walls of the rat cage she struggled to survive in every day.

“It…” He began, recalling the taste of liberty when Nate and he took off to the wastes together. “Tastes like home. The whole place. Fahrenheit knows I tend to do more explorin’ jus’ because I crave a change of scenery.”

He cracked a full smile when her eyes began to shut, cheek braced on her knees again. “And I don’t know how you haven’t broken out of this place yet. I’d go mad.”

Rowan’s lips darted up at the corners from what he could see past the bun in her hair. He almost lost it when she lifted her head and her hair came tumbling down like the curtain of night raining down on the Commonwealth. He was staring into the eyes of a dreamer, he noted. They were so naive but so blissfully aware of the evils surrounding them.

Rowan faced the positive sides of things. He didn’t know if it was stimulating, or if it completely pissed him off that she made him feel something. All pretty ladies turned him on, hell, he indulged in the lust if he could. Rowan was a special all her own. He could sit here and tell her stories until his brain finally corroded into pudding. She never grew tired of the narrations. Just when he thought she was all out of questions, she had new ones. It was easy with her to spill his guts, kind of how it was with Nate.

Sure, he had to earn every aspiration gained from Hancock, but Rowan didn’t give him any reason to doubt her at all. She wasn’t shrouded in mystery or threatening to kill him like everyone else in this damned place. Hancock rose up then the squeaking of boots catching the sleepy girl off guard.

“Are you leaving?” That damn languishing timbre branching out of her cool murmur.

“Easy there, doe. Our work ain’t done yet. Nate and I gotta go check up on Austin, plus.” He tipped his hat down to her with a crooked little smile, “Wouldn’t wanna miss an opportunity to piss off that brother of yours, but I don’t think I wanna be riding the high of death anytime soon.”

He pretended not to see the flash of hurt in her eyes when he walked out just as easily as he strutted in there.

Hancock didn’t wanna go back to see her, she had a lullaby that soothed the adventurer in him. She found it okay to just… Do the minimal. She never experienced the ravaging claws of the commonwealth stripping you of everything and anything you held dear. She hadn’t learned that if you were too soft you wouldn’t ever make it out. As much as she longed to expose herself to the outside Hancock knew she wouldn’t make it far. Books didn’t do much when you have to fight off whole new rounds of monsters.

He wasn’t referring to the ghouls and ferals either. Not the institute. But humanity itself. The concept has since changed greatly, he had no doubt she knew all about it. What disturbed him the most was how okay he was with being alone. But alone with her too. Her company was the most sedative drug without any form of contact other than the mystical eyes. He wanted to corrupt that sobering innocence, keep her locked away just for him. It didn’t make sense, but it felt right.

She dug under his skin with one look sparking the fire in his veins when she inquired to know about him. She didn’t flinch back from fear, or to gag in revulsion. Her touch was mild as if scared for a devastating rebound. When he moved too quick she jerked and he caught the expelling fear written on her freckled face. Anger prickled up on his skin like goosebumps when he caught the sight of it, but played it off like it didn’t mean anything.

Because it shouldn’t. There was no reason for him to form an attachment with her no matter how golden her fingertips were touching his face without abandon in an attempt to comfort him. She reclined avidly when she caught herself and wore that apologetic smile like lingerie. She was overcoming him in a whole new sense and he fuckin’ refused to fall for someone like her. He refused to give someone as bound as her the attention his body was demanding he gives her. What was worse, was he wasn’t sure if he meant that at all. He wasn’t sure if he could ever have something fucking cool happen without the afterthought being, I can’t wait to tell Rowan.

He was never the hero to any story. Yet she hailed him like he was. He didn’t tell her how he ruined many people’s lives purely just from existing. She didn’t know all the blood he wore on his skin, how many times he stayed up for days just high as a kite because he wanted to escape the bitter cold ravaging inside of himself. He was living empty before he met Nate, and now he was wondering if life was a reality, or if it was all just a dream because of her. To meet such a damsel with a warrior’s soul, an old one.

He caught up with Nate at some point just walking in as if he hadn’t been driving the vault insane because no one had any clue where this ghoul went. Nate was scowling at him, but he just grinned. “Miss me?” Nate hooked him in a headlock playfully attempting to take him down. Hancock growled, punching him in the head at the opposite side. “Did ya think I finally ran out on ya?” He laughed, straightening out the ruffles of his shirt, fluffing the duster with a cocky little hum.

“No, but you had a bounty on your head. Alex was looking for Rowan because you,” He accused with reverence, “Distracted her from going to her classes today.”

“Not my fault.” He immediately tossed his hands up in defense. “She kept askin’ questions. Wouldn’t let me leave the room. Next time, it’s your turn.” Nate stopped in his tracks to give him the darkest look he could muster. Hancock avoided his gaze hooking his finger into the neckline of his vault suit yanking him with him. “Let’s get this shit over with, you fuckface.”

Rowan waited a good measured time when Hancock left. If Alex found them too close together he’d kill them both, take away her freedom to roam this place. He chiseled at the shape of her rock until it was the shape he wanted, and the library. Books, writing… It was all she had. and finding regrets in everything she forgot and the second she was at peace she was thrown off by her need to make everything complete, ‘cause she’s a sucker for the rule of threes. Breathing out a heavy sigh she used the edge of the desk to lift herself up.

She slid the keycard into the scanner closing the library doors behind her with the familiar comforting hiss. Alex held onto her because he felt he had nothing left and the deeper he carved into this rock he realized it’s not gonna fit into the shape that he wants, she just wondered when he would quit. He damned her to a life in this vault, to make her a doctor when she really didn’t wanna be. She wanted to help people, sure, but what was the point of it if she couldn’t expand to those who genuinely needed it?

She didn’t mean the people in the vault. They had medical things anytime they needed. She meant settling out in the wasteland helping the drifters Hancock spoke about. Creating a life that terrified her, but never made her feel so alive.

When she flicked on the light to her bedroom Alex stood with the remains of the devil that snapped out sometimes. “Do you have any idea what your reckless stunt damned you to?” He demanded the moment he closed and locked the door behind her. “You missed yet again another class. Why?”

Rowan shrugged, turning to fiddle with a pen rolling on her desk. She wrung it between her fingers muttering, “Lost track of time. Sarah brought me a new book-”

He stomped over snatching her by the arm. He wrenched her hard enough for her head to snap like a ragdoll being tossed across the room by an angsty child. Alex was rough, but he had love under the intent. “You understand that just because Nate and that ghoul of his came in doesn’t mean you stop listening and chase their pathetic dream like it’d mean something to you.” He clenched her cheeks in his rugged fingers staring into her eyes with fiery emeralds.

Always hide who you want to be until it’s gone, she reminded herself struggling against her brother’s vice. “You are more important than some washed up wastelanders.” He spat, shoving her back by her jaw.

Rowan covered the sore spots on her face ducking under her hair. “It’s not them.” She tried again, a useless beg. “I was just reading-” She fingered her glasses to sit on her desk to hide the cloudiness of her lenses, not wanting him to know she was crying again. But he caught on anyways.

He shook his head in disbelief, running his fingers through his hair as he paced. “Crying again. That gets you nowhere with me,” He seethed, wrenching his fingers in her hair yanking it back to stare into her vulnerable face. “It pisses me off more. It’s time for you to grow up, Rowan Louise. You belong in this vault, you will make something of yourself. Mom and dad would be so disappointed in you.” The words lashed like a knife at her throat and the sob wrenched out before she could catch herself.

She swore there were times Alex got off on her misery. She always blamed the alcohol on his breath, but even sober, he never changed. “I forgot, one day isn’t gonna set me back-” She attempted to argue, breaking off when he yanked her roots with a ragged yell. “Miss another class, Rowan.” He threatened. “You’ll see what living like a wastelander is like.” He released her tossing her back on her bed. She avoided the knowing stare of the security guard as he made his rounds. She locked the door bracing her back on it as if that were enough to make her stable.

Just don’t choke on communion or those emotions. Swallow down a staining memory before it’s washed out. Her guilty conscience was a chaser for every broken rib, every shred of skin, my selfish repentance, her need to feel clean just so she can copy and paste the same burden. I trusted your love and listened to every word that you said, I had so many words to say but now they’re just stuck in my head. There was noise filling her room in the silence of it. The books were laughing at her again just like everyone else. A child hid in the body of a woman. Who was she to think anyone cared for her genuinely?

Would her parents really feel that way about her?

Hancock made her feel important, even for a moment. He spoke to her, that was more than what she got from anyone in this vault. She pretended she didn’t feel the crushing weight threatening to paint these plain walls with her insides. She pretended she didn’t see the bruises when she showered, and that she didn’t feel joy when Hancock laughed with her, and not at her.

How is this love when the scars paved the way to the truth in all of this? She wondered. The comfort of existence removed my need to chase love and I conformed to something fake. ‘Cause it’s easier than turning to above rather than trusting that I can make up my own ending, something I can destroy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m honestly glad a lot of you guys are liking this so far!! I did update the name because it seems more fitting than before.

There were a lot of things Rowan knew of her precious vault, the history couldn’t be hidden long from her. However, she never had a clue about Curie. She appeared in the clinic adjusting the sleeves of her lab coat on her shoulders when she met the chipped body of the bot. She turned with an excited chirp whizzing over speaking in the most thickest French accent that’s ever pierced her ears, “Is this Rowan Fairchild you speak of?”

Blinking a few times in confusion she tiptoed around her observing the chipped exterior exposing a few wires. Besides the few knicks and cuts here and there she was in pristine condition as if time had never touched her. “That’s… Me.” She responded. Doctor Forsythe turned like he caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to and launched into an immediate command. “Don’t interrupt her work.” As if Rowan had meant to be a distraction. She puffed out her cheeks when she sighed muttering a soft, “Sorry.” She apologetically slugged over to the patient seeking a stimpak.

It was hard not to feel excluded when Curie knew far more than she ever could, even with as much research she did. Curie was from the original creators and overseers. She even knew the cure for the sickness from those curated mole rats that damned Austin. Did she dislike Curie? No. Jealous? Of course. She’d dedicated all eighteen years of her life to indulge herself into the bath of science, chemistry, and biology. Jacob never spoke to her once, unless it was to tell her to back up off whatever she was working on.

She tried acting like the coos and mewls of the doctor over the bot didn’t bother her but it really fuckin’ did. She strived and sacrificed to be in this position. Never once had he applauded her when she stitched up one of the kids after they cut their foot open on glass. Never did he squeal with joy when she guessed the answer right. And God fucking forbid she corrected him. “You are doing so well, Curie! You’re the best assistant I’ve had in forever.” She pretended the legit _giggle_ the nanny bot made didn’t stab her through her too feeling heart.

Picking apart a hubflower, Rowan nibbled on the corner of her lip in concentration plucking at the body of it with a pair of tweezers. Curie glided on over hovering like a nuisance fly eyeballing the food you were trying to eat. Breathing out a groan of irritation she turned her russet eyes on the optics mere inches from her face.

“Yes?”

Curie gave the resemblance of a smile a robot could muster. “I have been excited to meet you! I hear you are intelligent, the next doctor, right?”

Right.

She was damned to be in the vault, so maybe having her here wasn’t too bad. “Yeah.” She said eventually, rolling herself back from the microscope facing her fully. “That’s me.”

“You do not sound happy. Is there something the matter?”

“Not a thing.” She bit back bitterly, eyes narrowed at the prying woman. Funny how she didn’t have the body or even the sheer distinction besides a female vocal chip that made her one, and she was openly assuming Curie’s gender. The bot was reading her scanning her over with a laser so blinding she could still see it even when she tore her gaze to the wall across from her like a stubborn child. “You are angry, your blood pressure is high.”

“So what?” She snapped shoving herself to her feet unable to stop her outburst. “It’s awfully rude to scan someone without their consent!”

Jacob blew over like a chair in a hurricane grabbing her by the back of the labcoat. “Get off me.” She hissed through her teeth. “What gives? Why is she here?” Rowan bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to stop the rage pouring from the void forming in her heart. Missions contained within a vision of wishful thinking, she thought. She shook her head in disbelief at her pondering shrugging off her jacket and tossing it over the eye of the robot. “Fuck this place. And fuck you, specifically.” She addressed her directing her fury to her.

Her deep desire to be needed.it’s hard to admit, but she guessed she came to terms with the fact that she just wanted to be needed. To be convinced herself that she needed to be needed. She tried to capture her emotions on paper and she was told that she was misdirected, but maybe her mindset had just been infected. By this pain-infested re-appropriation of the comfort she developed with negligence. She didn’t run to the library, not to her room, running to the lower floors Curie had been hidden.

Why? She didn’t feel like anything real was happening. And the most sense she could make of this world had slowly transformed itself from being ink in her pen to being the pain in her heart and her head. She wanted to be alone because she was still hurting. Alex had since apologized for his tough love like always, only to do it again when she fucked up. She was hiding from the probability that he’d never let her live down the mistakes she made, just like now. Jacob was preening over every little thing Curie did.

Her whole life led up to being such a disposition of health and virtue of others, and Rowan didn’t know hers. She didn’t wanna cry and seem like a baby, addicted to the caffeine that kept her blood pumping because it didn’t feel like she was living. The days were blurring together, the sense of this world, being something false. She hadn’t seen Nate and Hancock since he brought her the copy of Gatsby she reread and reread.

She even hid her copy of Lord of the Flies, just because of the ghoul.

She smuggled in a radio from some of the shipment listening to Diamond City Radio to captivate herself in the life outside the vault. She shrugged herself in the corner of the security gate in front of colorful control panels finding her gaze fixed on the buttons, bright and neon, a stark great contrast against the lonely gray of this vault. Quiet. Silence. There were mole rat bodies around her. She knew she could get sick, probably end up in a fate like Austin’s before he was saved.

That was so much better than feeling like nothing. Feeling an empty heart. An empty life. She served no purpose here.

She knew where she would though.

She tried avoiding her brother, knowing the consequences would be dire. Ghosts can’t love, she realized. Her brother had long been devoured by the devastation of their shared trauma, one he remembered far more vividly than she had. He got stuck raising a sister who rebelled in little ways, that joined up into a bigger purpose. He slapped Rowan until she couldn’t make sense of her parallel mind never connecting with his. She cried until the lights outside in the halls dimmed, and the life around her were asleep with the stress being torn open inside her.

She pulled herself up by her arms feeling his hands crushing like rocks that kept her buried under the rubble of herself. Rolling off the vault suit to inspect the bruises that colored her skin like black and blue splotches of paint. She felt the company of loneliness comforting her like an old friend she hadn’t seen in years when in fact she just met up with her this morning. She fought the fact that it was going to be hard, but she never was superstitious enough to believe in fate anyway, or luck, for that matter, or hope, she supposed. But this was all she had.

She packed what she thought she’d need. She stuck a lead pipe from the lower rooms into her book bag along with water, food, fruits, and at least a change of vault suits until she could find her way to some more nutrients. She had no idea where anything was except for a map of the commonwealth a trader left behind once. She read up on enough to know of threats, to seal wounds, and how to protect herself if she had to. If she could survive out there, she could come back and face everything so minimal here.

She wondered if she’d see Hancock again, she’d make it a point to stop by Goodneighbor just in case he and Nate weren’t out living the life of adventure. Rowan exhaled silently kissing this place goodbye. She wouldn’t miss it. Even if she became food for a deathclaw, if she threw herself off a cliff on accident. She’d get to taste the outside air, to be so open. The liberty of freedom was so close, it fueled her like a rocket threatening to bound off. It was getting past the guards she worried about.

She got to know the schedules and weak spots. They eyed that door like a naked woman and guarded it like one too. Worse comes to worse - she’d run.

And she did.

Her feet pounded the floors steadying her enough to fly through the elevator doors. She somehow fashioned together an array of broken glass, and it looked enough like a vase that it would pass. She zoomed past the guards fast enough to blow them unsteady like a forming twister. The door was open and so close the outside looking like the light at the end of the tunnel facing death - but it wasn’t. It was her new start. Distantly she could hear the yells, the cries, the begs. The door shrieked as it began to roll, and like closing eyes, it fastened her fate.

No. She wouldn’t be a prisoner anymore. She flung herself through the narrow gear shape in time to land on hard gravel the moment the door fastened shut. Laying on her stomach with a mouthful of dirt Rowan looked up with her chin on the ground, auburn hair a mess. The air tasted of purity, of radiation, of musk, and Earth. It wasn’t the filtered air like bottled water, it was change. It was beauty.

The Commonwealth opened up like the legs of a whore inviting her into the mystery of her life. The sky - _oh it was so much better than any book made it seem._   Thousands upon thousands of tiny diamonds littering the skies like God wanted to give the earth a gift. One gem wasn't enough, he rained them everywhere just so it never felt alone. Glancing behind her, she knew if she remained, the guards would fetch her and toss her back in that underground cell. She fisted the map protruding from her bag, and looked to her closest nearby settlement. Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, she found one called the Slog, and she ran with weapon in hand hoping she’d get there soon enough.

Hancock wasn’t paying attention to the settling night around he and Nate. The vault dweller was going on about something this nanny bot requested when they passed the all too familiar walls of Vault 81. “She said something about wanting to be a human, to further her studies. I think that’d be a good idea.” Rolling his eyes the ghoul muttered, “Oh for sure. As if we don’t have enough scientists dissecting humans and replacing them.” Nate shot him a look whacking him in the ankles with the end of his hunting rifle. The ghoul growled whipping around to smack him and-

Alex tackled Nate the moment he swung past the gates. “You, you’ve seen her!” He grabbed him by the hair tangling his fingers into the moppy mess. Hancock didn’t waste time sending the toes of his boot sailing into Alex’s face knocking him backwards a few feet. He snapped his shotgun out pressing the two mouths to his cheek with a dark, cold look. He loomed over him with his rugged features turned down. He was staring up with fear and rage, but John was the cool collected ice in the darkness. “You watch yourself, friend.” He warned, teeth baring in a promising scowl. “Who the fuck have we seen?”

Nate didn’t need to ask, because he saw it coming the moment Hancock told him about Rowan. “My sister, you abomination!” He snapped, stone solid on the ground. “When someone has a gun to your head, it’s probably best not to push them.” Hancock guided with a dark smirk. “One twitch and your brains will be splattered.” Nate sighed, shoving the ghoul aside to better assess the situation. “What happened?”

Hancock looked up to the worried faces of all the settlers. Curie was in the front leading the back with something like remorse seeping through her vocal capacities. “She has run out.” She said solemnly. “I’m afraid my arrival was much unprecedented.”

Hancock holstered his weapon with a slow draw back like an arrow on a bow. It was a warning he’d keep calm for now. “What do you mean, Curie?”

But it was Jacob who answered, “Rowan didn’t welcome her like I’d hoped.” He said, frowning with a selfish sadness. “She stormed out, next thing we know, the guards saw her run out like a bat out of hell hours later.” Nate looked to Alex who rolled himself into a sitting position knuckling his shirt to his broken nose. Hancock just smirked down at him too pleased with his skillful work. But deep inside his stomach was rolling with the thunderous storm present at hand.

Hancock almost expected it from her. To finally escape and find the freedom she so longed for. However, he knew she was weak. Reading books and burying her nose in the studies wouldn’t even come close to preparing her for this murderous world these days turned into. “Bring her back.” Alex’s whisper carried the weight of thirteen Brahmins. “She needs to be safe.”

“What she needs,” Hancock began kneeling down before him. “Is to be her own person. Ya ever think keeping her trapped down here would have any other outcome?” Much to Nate’s surprise the man didn’t try lunging at him. He stared at him, a broken man. “She may be all ya got, but she had a soul made for helping, for wanderin’. Sad I know your sister better than you.” He moved away ignoring the wound his comment created. This deadly ghoul with a chem problem had corrupted her.

He jumped up then with his sights on the ghoul. He didn’t as much as flinch when the elderly sibling went for his throat. Nate threw him back by a forceful arm despite the ghoul already brandishing his knife at his throat. “You fucked her up.” He accused, glaring the two of them down. “She was fine. You filled her head with phony fairy tales. Thanks to you she’ll end up dead. Just like every-fucking-one else who ever left this safety.”

The mayor scoffed, “The safety net ya mean.” Nate smacked him for that, and the ghoul growled at him in return. The tension growing between the vault people and the two explorers were suffocating. “Where did she go, what direction?” Nate inquired with a questioning cock of his eyebrows. “Maybe we can locate her.”

Hancock snapped his eyes over to him, almost bulging out of his skull. What remained of it anyways. “Don’t bring her back here.” He hissed in a hushed whisper. “You’ll be damning this girl to a life underground, shouldn’t she have the right to choose too?” Nate shushed him slamming his hat down over his eyes with a strong fist. While he struggled to shove the blinds from over his eyes, Nate turned to Alex again. “We will find her, make sure she’s safe.”

Hancock huffed throwing his hat back up into proper position glowering at the pathetic man at his feet. This man kept his sister under lock and key like some damsel in distress, and he expected Hancock, anyone to feel bad for him? Her mind was much too great to be locked in this four walled place a slave to the wage of clean food and a bed, but not a home. He could understand her temptation to find a place where her heart could settle and fill the emptying void where love should be.

He had these voices in his brain and he created them and he hated them, but he asked them to stay. Cause he had this fixation on death, this fixation on change, this fixation on pain. This fixation on sleep. This fixation on Rowan and on him, but who could he be? What was she? 

Rowan slumped against a rubble of a building tucking her knees up to her chest using her pipboy light to give herself comfort. She never knew how haunting the night is when you’ve never experienced it before. Her silent feet and slender figure was all she had to escape the creatures around her. She cut off the light like turning the knob of a radio off. There were only the footsteps of people outside, but they weren’t people. Maybe they were.

They were adorned in rags like people she recounted from memories from a world unknown. The world was dramatically different from the slides she watched, from holotapes she listened to. There were murderers in a land she was an alien. A silent whimper escaped her when a gunshot rung out and a disciplined cry of a full grown man shuddered around it. It haunted her even when she wasn’t listening. She forced herself up in a corner hoping to God the night would be a placeholder until morning.

Hancock had warned her, he had. But she could face it. She had to. She had to take a risk, even if it meant killing someone else. But is survival living or is survival just a placeholder for a vacant mind to cut off the threat to coincide with the soil while their blood boils? Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear she threw off the strap of her bag searching through the blood soaked sack. Her hands trembled like a vibrating bombs waiting to detonate, fisting the knife she wrung free of a woman.

She made it past a ruined diner blown to bits by the nuclear bombs. Her eyes were focused on the skies falling in love with how gorgeous the stars glittered around her. Next thing she knew she was face down with a weight on top of her, crushing her in the ground like the time her brother pinned her down beneath his wrought iron hands around her throat. She kicked, she screamed. Unlike Alex, she didn’t get up when her fight was just a simple roll back and forth.

She killed someone for the first time. She wrenched her ankle up into the back of the woman’s back flailing her forward into the dirt. Rowan threw herself up wiggling the pipe from her bag. The moment the woman went to slash her throat their weapons collided. The vault dweller swung again with a terrified sob knocking the weapon to the ground. The woman’s hair were strings of blond hardly holding onto her scalp. There were patches where scars, wounds, and open blisters remained. Her face was pitted with rot, maybe becoming a ghoul?

Maybe that’s what most people resembled these days.

She ran for her and Rowan sank the swollen pipe head into her head. The scavver fell with a shriek, and she cried with her. She was pursuing insanity. She straddled her waist knocking her in the head again and again and again. _“Crunch!”_ The metal sealed through her skull, and Rowan vomited. She’d became a murderer, but it was either her, or them. And she had something to live for. At least she hoped.

She kept clinging onto the past and hoped the future would be the same, Her and Alex would cry and laugh knowing the past would not remain, and she would argue with God. Every night she would lie awake, and lie to herself, hoping all of this was fake. There's no going back, she reminded herself. You have to adapt to this new life you’ve chosen. Get to the Slog, and you’ll find your way.

After all, there was still good in the world, right? There was Nate, and Hancock. John Hancock. How fitting. She almost laughed to herself then.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written this and deleted multiple copies of this. Smoked a lot to get inspiration, only to find it when I was sober no less. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy. I'm still iffy on this.

She ran.

She was running and skipping and bouncing through the free land. Dirt coated almost every crevice on her from where she’d skidded out of the way of gunfire. It was the ultimate thrill, being set free to roam like a horse.

She came across Oberland Station placing camp there for a few days until she could get back safely on her way. She stitched up a few wounds scrapping armor from raiders she came across. It felt a feral way to live, but this was the adventure The Goonies were after. Only thing was, her treasure was a land of open freedom without walls to crowd her in like a lonely pack of Brahmin. Her auburn hair was pulled back up into a tight secure bun just so her perception could be at its highest advantage.

The heavens above her opened up with a chorus of angelic voices singing their battle hymns down on her when she stepped into the train station turned village. She slumped down on a wooden wall blockading them all in, guard stations set up at every corner on a platform built over the building. She had just enough supplies on her to clean the gashes left split on her arms like slicing apples. She thanked whatever was above she studied enough to know basic aid and infections. She didn’t have one yet she hoped, at least...

She slung her backpack onto her lap ripping open the flap with her teeth. She wound a tourniquet around her arm giving it a wretched wring to cut off her blood flow. The vault dweller in shreds of leather armor caught Kellogg’s attention from where he limped through on his way to Fort Hagen. He didn’t seem to be the only wounded one, but this girl’s condition would be more severe. His leg was torn from battle, a simple cut only three stitches could fix.

He knelt down in front of her not missing the coursing fear through her large eyes resting them on his scarred face. “Ya need help?” His tone was stone cold despite the kind question. She was frozen solid with her finger strapped around the needle incision. “You don’t get that tended to, you’ll lose your whole arm. Here.” He fisted a bottle of vodka from a flask on his waistband. He was an intimidating man that rang the “Don’t-fuck-with-me” attitude. “Pour this on it.”

“Uh.” Rowan shuddered painfully not ready for the bravado of the sting another wound would leave her with. “C-could you..?” She asked. “I don’t think I could hold it steady with just one wounded hand and teeth.” He had a hint of a smile on the corner of his lips. “All right. I help you, you help me.” He offered. “O-okay, mister.” She whispered, relaxing when he kept a guiding hand on one shoulder ready to restrain her if she struggled. “My name is Conrad.”

She just smiled, sweet and as pure as pie. “Call me Row.” His cold heart halted seeing the child of his in her eyes. She had no idea who he was, he realized indignantly. Taking her over once more he saw the vault logo on her jumpsuit. “No wonder you got your ass handed to you.” He grumbled pouring the seizing liquid down into her wound. There was no reaction of discomfort besides a shape grab of her thigh and a hitched breath. “Do I look like a target?” She mused through her teeth exhaling when he dabbed at the old blood he’d rinsed out of it.”Prime meat.” Conrad laughed some.

She was patient for his handiwork to be done. He expected her to whine and bitch as any other vault pussy would. She was quiet, she didn’t meet his eyes when he wrapped the wound in the little bit of gauze he had on him. She said, “Thank you, Conrad.” Rowan’s smile was too pure, and he may have even felt guilt for when she found out she spoke a man with his time running down faster than he’d willingly admit. She thanked a man that killed innocent people, had his whole life ripped from his hands. She was damned to fall under the Commonwealth’s bastardly control.

He didn’t respond just kneeling down with his thigh brandished. She blinked a few times, recalling their earlier agreement. “I was a doctor in training,” She explained to him despite him not even asking about her pathetic life behind some underground safety net. “So my diagnosis for you should be pretty stationary. She fished out a few pieces of cloth she dabbed with the remaining liquor, ever so pressingly rolling it around his wound. “Doesn’t need stitches.” She confirmed, nibbling the inside of her cheek. “You have anything to keep it clean with?” She asked, watching him arise with a stubborn grunt her way. “I’ll be fine, kid.” Came his grumbled response.

He continued on leaving behind a peeved vault dweller. “You didn’t say thank you.” She gasped. She stalked up to him adjusting the sling she created. Conrad turned to look over her shoulder with a dismal sneer. “I ain’t gotta thank any-fucking-body.” He growled. “Best you stay on your way. Ain’t no one out in this godforsaken world we live in gonna show you mercy. Not even me.” Rowan eyed the pieces hanging in their holsters. She spotted a gun, and the hunting knife curled on his side.

“You a merc?” She asked hesitantly. Conrad whirled on her pinning her to a nearby pole with his arm by the throat. “Say that out loud again, we’ll have a fuckin’ problem. I’m jus’ trying to get on my fuckin’ ass home.” Rowan felt fear gliding through her. She clawed at his leather sleeves falling to her ass with a startled yelp when he released her. “I’m sorry.” She gagged, facing him with sheepish eyes. “I just wanted your help on knives. Just enough for me to know how to get the Diamond City, at least.” She knew her chances were slim to having him agree. “For a reasonable price.” He shot out venomously.

Who the fuck was this kid to trust a known murderer for help? Never in his life had he asked someone with the childish innocent of a vault dweller to seek him for combat advice. “Ya wanna know some tricks? Here.” He brandished out the curved weapon on his hip, eyes narrowed. “Never let them touch you. Silence is your friend. Stay in the shadows, walk softly. If they have a gun, hope to God your knife work will save you. Survival of the fittest.” He spat venomously. She smiled then, nodding over at him with a crooked grateful smile.

He stalked off then leaving her to admire the scythe with something like hope. She’d stop by Diamond City, she thought. She’d maybe finish school there, or be at least a nurse. Medics were always needed in this sort of time, right? Running her fingers through the bangs that flopped free of its ponytail, she decided for tonight, she’d sleep. Then, back to running until she couldn’t anymore. Thankfully, she was closer to Diamond City than she expected or intended. She was getting farther from anyone picking up on her. Part of her wondered if anyone from the vault had gone looking for her, or if they really exiled her away like vermin.

Hancock’s heart had been cut from his chest for a long time now. The voices and bodies that shadowed him made him believe their jibes were right. The ghosts of innocent people he couldn’t protect waiting behind until he was vulnerable and exposed to them. These monsters were like ships in a storm wrecking every vessel and splinter of wood until they washed up to the shore. They made him hate himself, hating everything about this life he’d made for himself.

Each hit of chems was a step closer to jumping off that bridge they led him to. He kept fighting just for his town, for his people. These demons couldn’t be seen so how could someone as valiant as himself ask for help? This was the cocky confident king of zombies he was talking about, here. Why did Rowan make him feel like they were powerless on her? Maybe because she showed the pair of steel balls she carried? She was enough to pull him just a few inches back from the ledge telling him he could fight one more night.

However, their path to finding the small vault dweller was coming up short. “Think we headed in the wrong direction there, navigator,” Hancock responded when he, Nate, and Dogmeat rounded the nearby walls of Oberland Station. Nate gave him a disgruntled look. “Valentine uses him all the time, he has yet to be wrong.” Tugging on the leash to get his attention, Nate led the German shepherd inside for his snout to continue nudging at the ground. All they found was - “Hey.” Nate called over to the ghoul leaning nearby. Dogmeat mouthed his teeth around the ruined blade soaked in familiar substance.

His dark eyes cast a hard look his way. “You keep sayin’ you’re findin’ shit…” The mayor picked himself up trudging along the beaten to hell path of the trainyard. Nate held up a blood sheathed blade that glinted in its rusted glory. Hancock had been in the game of murder long enough to know when they found a match to the deadly object plunged handle deep into bodies. “Impressive.” John mused with a pleased snort. “She’s either royally fucked herself by leaving this here, or she’s around these places somewhere.”

The ghoul just happened to look behind his shoulder to the boxes of crates stacked sky high. Cracked glasses lay not too far, an indention in the hay next to the tower of storage. He hooked his finger under the legs his bare eyebrow cocking up. “She’s not gonna get very far without these.” He brandished his discovery to Nate who just breathed out a heavy sigh disbelieving the might in this tiny child. “Where do ya think she’s headed?”

“Where everyone else is from this area,” The vault dweller explained picking himself up to wipe his filthy hands on is already ruined jeans. “The great green jewel.” Hancock bared his teeth in a dark stare rolling his eyes with disappointment. “And here I’m thinkin’ she’s the one to cure cancer.” He growled furiously. Nate knew it was just his personal vendetta against his brother ruling the town. Nate couldn’t blame him, because it was mass genocide against innocent ghouls they turned their backs on.

Hancock stalked ahead of him when Dogmeat took off once more. He buried his rickety fingers in the pocket of his jeans puffing on yet again, another cigarette. The mentats were enough to keep him stationed at the moment, but the stress of finding Rowan was weighing on his shoulders. The sea of emerald eyes kept washing in and out of his mind like water pouring from a faucet just to twirl down the drain, regurgitating to shoot him full of regret. It was never one at a time, but prisoners lined up by their shackled wrists.

They were on display like a mosaic for him to recall scratching at the inside of his skull. They were plentiful, but she was such a broken mousy woman. She had the beauty of old style, of an old world. She had the heart of a lioness despite her overall too caring nature. Her eyes missed not a thing, and he missed everything. Black as the sea at night swallowing up all her happiness. He wanted to contort it to see her pretty face wrecked and ruined, just because that was what he deserved. A broken woman who just uses him like he uses chems. Not someone who was so genuinely using him for stories, ones that dug the deep pit inside of him.

Now, there was a threat hanging as high above him as the lusting sun. It poured out happiness when all he felt was the anxiety that Rowan had left herself more vulnerable than before. There was no strength of positivity on him at the moment. He toyed with the knife discovered feeling the rusted blade. It had got the job done, but even he knew it was more likely to succumb to dust before long. She was just one woman. She was unique, the voice in his head argued back. The way she looked at you, how she reacted when you were near.

The ghoul merely smirked to himself dragging the scarred tips of his fingers down the curve of the seductive dagger of hers. To bleed for her would be a dream. He’d spill blood if it meant preserving the genuine warmth of her adventurous soul. They say some words are better left unsaid, and John was under the impression his emotions worked the same way. “Ya know what I wonder?” He looked up the moment Nate’s arm grazed his. A probing reminder he was there, and he could see the flakiness floating into Hancock’s seriously drawn expression. “What’s that?” Nate asked simply.

“Why you never finish any of these cool missions in your Silver Shroud outfit.” The ghoul looked perplexed his mouth pulling up to an amused smirk. “It’d get ya brownie points for Kent.”

“Something tells me,” Nate chuckled fixing his eyes on the familiar dusty land around him, “You’re just bored and wanna give something to hold over my head.”

“Blackmail is the best form of flattery.” He reasoned, shrugging innocently. “Don’t know what Commonwealth logic by now?” Nate just rolled his eyes acting as if his words made any sense. “Glad to know you find me attractive in a silver trench coat.” Hancock grinned over at him then, winking suggestively. “Maybe if ya weren’t so stupid, you’d have a chance. Didn’t I tell ya playing dumb makes ya unattractive?”

Nate shoved him aside sending the chaotic good ghoul down the hell of which the road was built upon. Hancock shot him the bird yelling out, “Yeah, fuck you too. Feelin’ the love.” Nate grinned, “As long as you know my heart is a hundred percent behind it.” Shoving himself up by his palms he jerked his jacket to free of the dirt now coating him. He’d get him back, he was king of pranks. “You’re damn lucky ya didn’t damage my merchandise.”

“That dick doesn’t work as well as you think.” Nate frowned over at him. Hancock chuckled genuinely amused. “I meant the chems, man. But nah, you’re wrong there. My dick works just as well as a pornstar. I can show ya sometime.” He offered to lean into Nate’s ear seductively purring, “My body is soft, but my cock isn’t.” Nate gagged audibly leaving Hancock laughing in his wake. “I won’t ever get the idea out of my head!” He pretended to vomit, but he wasn’t too far from it, truly.

Hancock grinned so proudly. Turning his head he took in the head of fiery leaves on top of a dying ash tree. It reminded him of the specks of gold in Rowan’s hair. He thought of those big eyes boring a hole into his soul he thought he lost long ago. He saw the lonely girl just trying to outlast through the day to day life of the vault. He watched her for a little one day with her head bent over a book every outside action nothing.

Her head was filled with the sounds of parties, of bachelors, and old wives tales. He found a comfort in watching her like that. Seeing the emotions running free and the dying world outside a simple nothing. It wasn’t even a fragment of her imagination she was sublimed into this new world the books were introducing her too. Something so small, so minuscule.

No one else would see it as Hancock did.

No one would see the draw to her, either. He loved protecting those innocent ones, he just didn’t expect to risk his remaining limbs over one virgin player on a chess board.

Fahrenheit would tease him relentlessly if she played damsel, and he had to rescue her. Knowing her, there was spunk she held hidden under the prisoner in distress shit. You hate yourself for being unable to chase her from your thoughts, he cursed himself with a bitter shake of his head. Your dreams, the insides of your eyelids, and your every waking moment. Even those when he’s drunk himself in a stupor he’s wishing she was there, getting to know every inch of him without him having to express himself vocally. The tales of his heroism did that for him, Hancock supposed.

She is the rain calm and peaceful and seemingly gentle. She sends shivers down his spine when she touches him. Her long fingers, warm, friendly, unheard of. He never realized how fucking cold he was until she walked right into him like it wasn’t a damn thing.

The word perfect barely begins to sum up her eyes.

The word perfect barely begins to describe all of her faulted beauty.

The kind she saw in him. Rowan had told him so too. He dogged himself for being hideously mutated, and she grinned. She called him beautiful. Nothing edgy and tormented like he’d been used to hearing, but she touched his face with the back of her fingers in a caress so light he had to really think if it was her, or the drugs.

He hated himself for wanting her. He hated himself for wanting her so much. The pain he felt inside was nothing compared to how it felt when he looked at her. She was a fragile mystery made up of lives she read about. His tongue still hurt from all those days ago when she looked his way and smiled, and he had to stop himself from telling her how beautiful she’d look with his cock on her tongue. She spurred up sporadic love spells like a voodoo queen. Hancock would blame the chems no matter how sober he was because that was something so much easier than explaining why he was so suddenly angry.

Nate always took notice, knowing the ghoul too well. Just never when he felt for someone, for a Rowan. The pent-up rage he expelled on creatures or raiders were characteristically in his range, but never to this degree. He was being harsh to be harsh. “You sure everything is okay?” Nate pressed, pulling him back by the shoulder when he repeatedly stabbed multiple holes so quickly neither he nor the victim, had time to relax. She stood on her feet a few wavering moments before she fell to the side. He was breathing heavily but jerked him off like some house fly. “I’m fine.” He lied through his teeth. “Completely.”

Where does she go to explain the beating? Rowan thought. Traveling alone on this long track of adventure had her deep-sea thinking about everything. She was tasting outside air, the sensation of radiation coexisting with her should keep her satisfied, but she kept thinking to Alex.

What would happen if she was taken back to that vault? Her hurt never had a healing. Her pulling away secluding herself was a band-aid that didn’t work anymore. She was seeing life from a whole new perspective instead of being mind fucked into thinking her brother was loving her the best way he knew how.

She had a cozy cot, a roof overhead, food in her belly… She had the makings of a good childhood, a life made of purple and gold. Royalty and riches. That’s the way everything was set up to look alike. Rowan couldn’t hide the thrashes sometimes. Forced to wear a thin cotton shirt between her jumpsuit to put some padding on the sharp jabs taken too far. She was left alone staring at cold walls, feet as freezing as the ice growing around her heart. Alex was dealing with the cards he was dealt, but not as well as he could have been.

Even now, that same sad little girl wept to experience the torn apart world all on her own. Tears falling down her youthful face, she felt so unloved, she felt out of place. She told all her secrets to her journals she had hidden around the room like subliminal messages in cryptic paintings. Her pillowcase caught all of her wishes of wanting to escape and run down the never-ending halls until she was somewhere - anywhere. Words, scriptures, they were all she had until today. She lost her shoe miles behind her, the flat bearings on them pressing up on the tender bottom of her feet. She couldn’t deal with them anymore.

There was something so preserving gracious about feeling the warm hands of New England radiating from the tops of her feet to the top of her head. Someone once asked her how she could believe in love if she’s never seen it. Rowan had to laugh because that was what she asked about faith. Just how could she believe in someone she never saw? Nor hear the words of a life she’s never mingled with? She only had to look around to know that it’s there, it’s here. It’s to sense the pulsing air penetrating the pores of your skin, the taste of metal on your tongue when you swallow radiated water.

Love is like faith or the other way around. She could see it in the raindrops that feed the trees and flowers. To know in the rainbows the build sometimes following the violent storms. She felt the adoration when a playful breeze blew gently through her hair. When the sun shines warmly on her face kissing all the places where it had not before. She said it was like that but never got to express it. Those were felt so alien to her until this moment when she smiled at the sweat beading on her forehead.

To be grateful was one thing, but to know in this ugly land there was beauty… It calmed the ruckus inside of Rowan’s head that was telling her this world would eat her alive. She’d learn and adapt. She’d help those who needed it and make it so damn far, all while being on her own. That meant being seen with Hancock and Nate, meeting new people. Better ones. There were, she knew. Meeting Conrad had even offered her the advice that gave her advice that even the tough skins had a soft heart. Kind of like Hancock, she recalled again. Was she missing him? He was a friend, yes. Her very first one from outside the vault.

Her whole world brightened at the idea of seeing him again. She was sure seeing her again wouldn’t be too monumental for him, but it meant the world to her. Had it not been for all his amazing stories she never would have got to experience this. Free air. The outside.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As we know I do my best work high. Now here we go to see how this chapter turns out. Blessed be my readers

He hated how effortless it was for him to become spineless underneath her vegas light eyes. She lit him up like a cigarette and drew out every ounce of common sense in his ruined being. She was mid-fight with a raider when Hancock and Nate stumbled onto the raider camp following after a savage German shepherd. “Jackpot.” Hancock purred, running in with guns blazing. He liked to think himself like Hades, and Rowan Persephone. Opposites, but it worked. He flashed her a darling smile that made the virgin glow flood her face, just the way he liked it. She was light on her feet swaying with a steady grace.

She was suave with the blades in her hands. She swung around the raider’s like a prancing ballerina going throat for the throat, those signature glasses never budging once. Hancock just finished the ones she couldn’t reach. The ghoul had to pretend to watch the blood of her enemies drenching her soft virgin skin didn’t make his cock rock hard. It didn’t help when she met his eyes with the flames of hell built from the lights strung around the grounds they battled on. They blurred so nicely, and reflected in her green eyes, were like blazes of Verde.

Nate rolled his eyes busying himself with looting a nearby footlocker of any goods. Leave it to John to try to get his dick wet in battle. The things that turned him on… Once the body crumbled down at her feet Hancock was there to replace where the criminal had been. His eyes resonated the most comforting dose of familiarity. “Hancock.” She greeted with a smile that made the trees grow a little taller. That or the mentats weren’t shit compared to the damning consequence of her beauty.

He chuckled, holstering his shotgun and crossing his ankles the moment it was sheathed. He leaned his arm against a post holding up the self-made run to hell shack. She was a glass of water, part of him relieved when he saw her alive and well. He couldn't deny there was something frightening about someone as gentle as her lashing out and spilling blood all in the name if sport. “How is ya likin’ the ‘Wealth?” He drawled, fingers digging into his pockets with a careless little smile. “Seems to me you were handlin’ yourself pretty well, sister.”

She exhaled with her entire being slouching against him much to his surprise. Her head rested on his chest, spectacles riding up past her eyebrows at an angle, a moment making his whole being tense up in response. “It’s a lot different…” She mused. “But I chose this.” She was all he was wanting, and her touch ignited something in him. Naturally, he took a step back some as a way to not alarm her for wanting distance. She came into herself with a few blinks muttering a quiet, “Sorry.” He just offered her that dashing smile, and everything was forgiven.

“Hate to interrupt.” Nate barked, though Hancock knew him better. He was getting off on being the cock block. “But we do have a mission at hand. Rowan, are you nuts?” The other vault dweller demanded with a hand on his hip. “You thought you could just travel alone in these parts?” His nostrils flared with each breath, but for once, she wasn’t scared of anyone’s wrath. She had much of her own. “It was either that, or I’d remain a hostage to that slave driving place.” Rowan mused in a whisper. Her doe eyes begged for her, pleaded on fallen knees despite her not actually crumbling.

Hancock turned on the balls of his feet giving him a knowing look, “You owe me a jet, popsicle.” Nate glared his way and threw a can of beans which he dodged with a playful scowl. “You… Didn’t bet on me did you?” Rowan cut in. Her curved brows were stuck together taking in the two. “I knew my money would be on you the moment I met ya.” The ghoul replied coolly. “Gets kinda borin’. I figured you were just tired of uniform.” The auburn haired woman nodded in agreement hesitantly. He inhaled with a stuttered sigh. “Can’t blame ya.”

“I don’t want to go back.” She gushed before she could stop herself. “The vault is torment, I left for the sole reason of-” Hancock threw his hand over her pretty little mouth. “We don’t get time, Doe. We’re in Raider territory. All that matters is,” He shrugged with a crooked smirk drawing her in with an arm around her shoulders, “You’re safe thanks to us, two handsome gentlemen. Now let’s get out of here before we platter more brains everywhere.” The ghoul grinned, “Purely for your sake. I’m always down for some blood spillin’.”

If there was anything Hancock learned since he became this person all these years ago was if you live by love, you die by it. People like Rowan slithered like a slippery serpent coiling into your heart slithering past the iron cage you kept it in. She would sink her fangs into it and draw out a few affections he had to offer. She was too chipper for a dead fuckin’ world, but it was so refreshing to see exuberance again. He was too hyper-aware of her warmth radiating between the four of them.

There was a twinge of innocence when she realized Dogmeat wasn’t really the bloodthirsty hound she was fearing him to be. He flanked her side for every moment on, Nate pretended to be abashed. “You’ve stolen my dog!” He gasped. Blinking in confusion she drifted her eyes down to the beady-eyed bastard drooling everywhere. Never before had Hancock been jealous of a dog before, until now. She scratched behind his ears her eyes crinkling up in delight when he brushed back on her. Stupid mutt.

He should be getting head rubs from the Goddess of Spring.

Nate smirked over at him knowingly catching the clipping scowl of the mayor. The ghoul drew his nonexistent nose up in the ar at him stubbornly. It didn’t last long. When Rowan giggled his attention was on her like chalk on a blackboard. He could see the lonely girl he met the first time the two of the riff-raff commonwealth rats invaded such a spic and span place. They both were covered in fuck knows what dragging debris on the too pristine floors. She was purified water on legs, waiting to rinse off the soiled rags he called clothes. But now, he could really see just how destitute she had been.

Her smile was as bright as the sun threatening to go to sleep behind the horizon. The chips of ice stuck to her shoulders were splintering off leaving behind puddles in the dusty ground. She was living day to day just letting those moments pass her by like they didn’t mean shit. Maybe it was living out in the ruins for a few days alone the solid truth sprung on her like a striking viper, you didn’t get to do that out here. You lived in the moment while you had it, or you didn’t have shit.

He fell behind just to take in her presence. She was too relaxed where he was too frigid, like a stone cold businessman in the ghettos. They didn’t speak for a while. “Where are you guys headed?” She mused like a fish out of water. Nate looked back at her, eyes drifting to the ghoul flanking too closely to her side. “We were gonna drop me off at Goodneighbor. Ol’ Nate wants to run around with the pretty robot lady.” He teased with a smirk.

Driven by the telling blush cuffing his ears from the bottom of his feet, Rowan knew that Hancock wasn’t far off from the truth. Eyes growing more sparkled in delight, “Who?” Rowan gasped. “Robot lady? A synth?” Nate sighed heavily drawing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose muttering, “Curie is purely for science.” At the name, Rowan’s comfortable demeanor faltered like a shuddering window in the winds of a hurricane. “Why?” She bit out. “She’s just a robot.”

Hancock noted the sardonic hiss patronized between her teeth. “Easy, tiger. What’s your beef with her?” Rowan fisted her hands at her sides like a raging toddler but swallowed down the burning words threatening to tumble out over her tongue like powerful vomit. Her hazel eyes burned with envious hues of green nehind the glasses reflecting the sun's glare. She went from being a pacified child to a full-blown ball of scoured emotions that lashed out like a cracking whip. Taking in her silence, Hancock accepted the answer. “Good enough for me.” He countered.

Nate narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. “That doesn’t invalidate her.” He shot out at Rowan. “She may not bleed as we do, but she feels. In our book, that counts for something. Might wanna keep that part of your mind open while we experience this new world.” Hancock expected her to lash out, but she shrunk three sizes under her scolding. Chuckling, he drew an arm around her waist whispering that whiskey-smooth voice in her ear, “Might not wanna take that too personal. The man has his panties in a bunch sixteen times a day over his pretty lady love.”

His words comforted her, and she smiled. Their faces inches apart he could see the caramel freckles decorating her pretty little face. There was one right under her lower lip. Softness filled in some of the cracks in his face, and it was all for her. He was raining down death and despair, shooting up any drugs he could, and hear she was. His sobriety walking right next to him. As much as he hated how goddamn concerning she was, he didn’t mind it at the moment. His drugs were so weak, and that’s not even as close as he could get to how powerless they were up against her gentle clamor.

“Thanks.” She responded with a reserved smile. The emotions were tender and he had a feeling that this was something only he got to see. Loneliness kept him warm at night and that was something he was completely okay with. He realized now, that this warmth blooming in his chest, was gonna make him the coldest motherfucker. They were both fools lost in an equally destroyed world. Rowan was sharp as a freshly welded knife. Her eyes didn’t miss a thing. Hancock was sure she could see the scars on his knees from where he fell. He may have a smooth swagger but everyone trips up every once in a while.

At the turn of his thoughts, he clipped the last strand she held undoing the threads on his duster. He left her behind with half his shit still attached. Blinking in confusion, Rowan watched after the figure rushing ahead. He left her alone with the pup at her side. She figured he’d just gotten bored with the silence and went to Nate instead. Funny thing was, neither spoke until they reached up near the tail end of South Boston. They stumbled on a few raiders in the process other than that, she was fighting exhaustion the most. Nate took notice when her shoulder slouched against a wall when she stopped just to catch a breath. “I think we need to make camp for a little.” He remarked, worry coloring his features. “When’s the last time you had sleep?” the vault dweller asked.

Rowan smiled just a little. “Three days ago.” She slurred swaying on her feet. “Had a little sleep since then.”

“Think it’s time for us to park it somewhere,” Hancock muttered. He stretched his toned arms above him breathing out reluctantly, “Could use a drug break myself.”

Nate hustled together logs from discarded shed pieces not too far off from where they were camped under some heavy metal shack. Rowan sat curled up under a blanket closest to the fire just feet from the awning she buried herself under. She felt safe for the first time since she left the vault having two of the best warriors she knew guarding her. Guarding one another, really. “I’m gonna teach ya some knife techniques,” Hancock announced plopping down next to her.

Their eyes met and she could’ve fallen into the reflection of the fire in his tar marbled eyes. Rowan sucked in a sharp breath ignoring the kick in the ribs it gave her to do so. “Is that so?” Her voice was something so goddamn supple it made his Adam’s apple burn from how acidly sweet the burn was. “Self defense is key there, Doe.” He expressed, swigging from the bottle of whiskey. He offered the flask to her a bare eyebrow-raising. “A shot for your thoughts?” He purred suggestively.

Her eyes grew in size dropping them to the glass. “I-I… Haven’t ever drunk in my life.” She rushed out intimately between the two of them. “Are you… Certain?” Her voice grew a pitch looking utterly mortified like the glass was gonna grow legs and attach to her face or somethin’. “If it ain’t ya cup of tea, I ain’t one to force it, love.” He went to pocket away and her soft fingers covered his scarred ones. The force of her touch thrust him like a heart attack. His eyes met hers, and fuck it if he didn’t realize just how hard he was fallin’ for a fragile beauty.

“I wanna try.” Rowan mused. She grabbed the flask before he could process the throttle of emotion she surged through him. He watched her shoot it back and gag, but force a swallow. Her eyes met his with a confident smugness in them, and fuck, if this ghoul didn’t just collapse under her. He flipped a switch in her somewhere and it showed when she dove in for another big swallow of his whiskey, and he didn’t stop her. His whole world went black. Where it was just her reaching arm brandishing the whiskey he’d rather pour over her and lick it off. And then some. “How’d it feel?” Hancock purred, having to face away from the dainty auburn-haired girl to keep from indulging in these sinful delights toying with his head.

Rowan laughed, leaning on his arm for a moment. “Like I did something I probably shouldn’t have.” Her hair brushed his body tickling the surface of his very being. He looked down at her not really wanting her to stop any of the little things she was doing. She knocked him flat on his back with her grin, with the tender heart, with the innocence plagued in her. “Do ya wanna do it again?” He offered, a playful smile on his lips. “I got plenty more where this came from, doll.”

Rowan shook her head muttering pompously, “I’m a vault dweller, not a dumbass, Mr. Hancock. You’re not getting me drunk.” The very forward accusation had him doubling over from how sudden it was. “Caught onto my plan, huh? Can’t blame a ghoul for tryin’.” She nudged him with enough force to send off the mini nuke in his gut again. She was so goddamn dazzling in her youthful glow with her teeth stark against the outside. They were brighter than the moon. Hancock decided then, her smile would be the only crescent he followed, and the stars in her eyes would be his navigation.

Nate walked around from collecting more plywood for their fire. He met Hancock’s gaze seeing the joy there in them. Nate knew him well enough to know when Hancock was smitten, and Rowan had him under lock and key no matter how Hancock warded off the questions and possibilities. The ghoul glowered at him already knowing what he was hinting at when he caught that shit eating grin from Nate. Rowan rose up hugging the blanket close around her kneeling down across from him. Hancock pretended like he didn’t miss that warmth beside him when she moved away, even by a few feet.

Since when did Hancock feel anything this deep? He was quick to whip out the jet flinging the inhaler around his fingers before taking the biggest hit he could possibly manage out of it. He wanted to be in that perfect purple haze where he didn’t feel anything, but in the best way possible. He felt himself out in everything else around him. He could run his fingers over the carpet and feel himself from the outside instead of inside. Upon hearing the infamous click Nate’s head shot up. “You totally just did one without me!” He barked indignantly.

Hancock chuckled knowing he’d been caught. “You were busy tryin’ to impress our little Jane Doe.” His eyes drifted over to her catching onto the scenery at hand. She eyed the red item in his hand and his hazy expression. “Is that…” She began, head tilting nervously. “Jet? Isn’t that addicting?” He didn’t miss the heavy weight of anxiety under her fragile question. “For soft-skinned like you? Hell yeah. Now us ghouls…” He drawled, hitting again before Nate could swipe it from him. “We gotta higher tolerance. But don’t worry, we got stuff for addictions now.” He reiterated the moment Nate hit from it as well.

Hancock didn’t even know why he thought he needed it with Rowan so close by. He did have a reputation to uphold though. “Ya wanna try some of this too? Nate, Curie, and I are some pretty damn good chemists.” Upon hearing the robot’s name her pride took another beating. “No.” She snapped. “I don’t touch those things.” Shrugging, Hancock murmured apologetically, “No problem, I ain’t one to judge for your preference.”

Breathing out an irritable moan she thwarted the blankets over her lap with a parachuting fluff shouldering her back on top of it. She thumbed through the books stuffed away in her bag wanting to enjoy at least something along her way to Diamond City. She really didn’t think she’d need these things anymore once escaping the ugliness of the vault because really, it was so much better than she could have pictured it to ever be. Upon the thought, she realized she could enjoy the night since she wasn’t alone.

Rowan rolled herself onto her back looking up at the galaxies hanging above. She set her glasses right wanting to memorize all the pastel tie-dyes in the process. She traced the swirls with her fingers part of her absolutely tickled to be able to experience this. “It’s so pretty.” She mused vividly, Hancock’s boots crunching closer. Funny, she could identify him out of Dogmeat, Nate, and him. “I was scared to take it in at first.” She admitted, tilting her head back to stare at him audibly jumping at how close he was to her. He was kneeling down on one knee looking up himself following to where his gaze was previously.

Hancock was majestic with his sharp jaw curved to a perfect point under the remnants of his tricorn hat. She could see the details that made up his human face. His eyes reflected the specks of glitter from above, and fuck, Rowan had never imagined a ghoul being beautiful until now. Feeling her gaze, he blinked himself back down to meet her eyes. Hancock couldn’t decide what he liked more, her lips swollen with desire, or drenched by the hot sting of whiskey. Seeing her in the heat of battle, or seeing her so mesmerized with the beauty she found in this ugly world.

She was something poetic herself, Hancock murmured. “Ya just gonna keep starin’ or ya gonna say somethin’, Doe?” She shot up like she’d been projected from some kind of spring attached to her back. “You got anymore whiskey?” She asked then, not wanting to deal with the fire prickling on her skin from him. She wasn’t supposed to experience someone like Hancock as some erotic novel, but he was having that horrid effect on her. He fished some out of the inside of his frock grabbing her hand to stop her from running back onto the metal floors of the shack. “Here, sunshine.” He branded it to her.

She slowly lowered herself to the ground next to him murmuring, “Shouldn’t I eat beforehand..?” Her large eyes were nervous again. He wanted to smother her mouth with his to shut her up and make noises in another way, but instead, he shrugged. “Nate’s getting ready to make some Mirelurk jerky and stuff. You can wait until then if you wanna.” The ghoul offered. “As I said, ain’t gonna pressure ya.”

Rowan nodded but swigged it despite the retching her stomach did anytime the poison touched her stomach. Hancock definitely noticed but didn’t laugh at her for it. She was comfortable in his presence so they could share drinks all night if she wanted. She fisted the discarded book by her feet picking it up to read it once more. Hancock took note, eyebrow-raising up at her. “Lord of the Flies? Thought ya hated it.”

It was like he caught her undressing. She jumped and slammed the book shut with a nervous clammer to her. Hancock caught her by the wrist to keep her from shuffling it away. “Wasn’t makin’ fun of ya for it, Doe.” He reassured her. “Just didn’t expect it. Why ya so jumpy?” Rowan breathed out a shaking sigh muttering, “You made me reconsider the standpoint.” She admitted not minding the roughness of his touch on her opposing skin. He took the book from her laying it in his lap where she dog-eared the page. She watched him with one of her most prized possessions, it had become a quick favorite since she was told it was his favorite.

She blamed the alcohol immediately, but seeing Hancock reading really, really turned her on. She lay her head on his shoulder pretending he didn’t move closer to her. He began to pick off little segments until he got comfortable enough to read to her. He didn’t mind the mutt nearby curling up against her lap. There was the comforting crackle of fire laughing with the joyous celebration inside of Hancock’s chest. Nate gave them their privacy just preparing a dinner like some kind of broken family. A brother, his sister in law, and their dog. All that was missing for Nate was someone of his own.

Did Rowan get drunk? Well, in summary, she stopped tasting the liquor at all. She could hardly stand without toppling over and a few times she did gain her footing, Hancock had her secured by the waist to keep her from falling into the flames. Now, she was laying face down in the dirt. Nate was getting a kick out of it, seeing someone who’d never once even tasted the shit was stumbling and crying, and laughing. All at once.

Rowan was moaning, and Hancock though, bedtime. He rolled her over picking her up by the arms. She drew both of them around his neck curling her fingers around the back of it to pull him closer. She flicked his hat off in the back so it flipped on top of hers instead. Nate’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief she’d really have the balls to touch his hat. Let alone wear it a lot better than he did too. Hancock smirked at her drenching fluent seduction in her ears, “You look better in it than me. Ya gonna let me see you with just that on?” Her eyebrows shot up wrenching back her face to look at him.

Sudden bursts of color in his all-black world filled him with pinks, blues, and the richest of golds. The green envy leaked in from her russet eyes drawing him more into her arms than before. The color that fills her cheeks is nothing compared to the blush forming in his cock. She was riveting in the display of lust forming all in his darkened eyes. He was an entire sin she wanted to give into. Indulge in the fires of hell, because there was no one there to stop her. “If you’re offering,” she whispered.

He knew it was wrong, he shouldn’t have, but he did. He wanted to rip away that chastity away from her, soil her with himself. Why? Because she was the worst kind of temptation. He drew her behind the metal walls of the shack bracing her against it. His hands found the dips in her curves. He didn’t need the light of the night to lead him right to those lips he’s waited so long to ravish. She was awkward, she was new to all of this. Hancock pulled back asking in the whiskey warm hum, “You never been kissed?”

“I-Is it that obvious?” She whispered anxiously. “I didn’t-”

He cupped her chin pressing their lips together, much softer. It was the prickle of lightning sprouting from his heart, through his fingertips, through her, whacking her heart with a hammer. Gentle wasn’t something John was used to. Not at all. He was used to the neck biting, hate fucking, ravenous lust hunt of the times. He didn’t want that. He didn’t wanna see a thing. He wanted to feel her around him, near him, indulging in the pit of unknown. He parted her lips with his tongue which she quickly invited in with a startled moan.

The sound brought nothing but the intentions of bending her over right here and right now. He wanted to hear it again. “Fuck,” He chuckled under his breath resting his forehead on hers. “What?” She panted, cupping his chin with her pure little palm to tilt his gaze up to her. “Didn’t expect you to sound that pretty.” He growled in reply, diving in to suck on her neck. She was his for the taking not strong enough to fight the persuasion Hancock was. His hand followed the curve of her jeans finding the too big waistband she had tied off with a string. “Don’t think you’ll be needin’ these.” He whispered up to her ear, kissing right underneath it.

Rowan opened her mouth to reply, but her pants were at her ankles and she was exposed. His fingers played in the curls for a moment, drenching his kisses down lower muttering the filthiest things he could vocalize. His fingers drew over her mound meeting the liquid pleasure drenching over his fingertips. It was gold having her right there. “Don’t worry…” He whispered, feeling her legs trembling. “Tell me to stop if you need.”

It was instructions, but Rowan was quiet because she did want it. He found her pulsing clit and she knotted her fingers into his sleeves. “Just that easy, huh?” Hancock drawled, bringing her legs up around his waist adjusting her back on the wall. “That way I don’t gotta worry about your pretty little self fallin’ out on me.” He rubbed the tender nerves in slow circles following her track of air with his mouth.

He could feel the main vein pumping under his tongue when he tasted the holy celibacy come to relieve him of his sins. He was gonna corrupt his only chance at redemption from the wrongs he’d done, and fuck, he was fine with it as long as Rowan kept singing those sweet sounds into his ear like this. Her orgasm was coming closer, he could tell by her breaths coming shorter, harder. “You gonna cum, Doe?” She nodded, muttering nervously, “Y-yes.”

“Well,” He chuckled, stopping the movements between her needing lips. “What if I stop?”

“Please don’t,” Rowan whined, biting her lower lip anxiously. “You really can’t do that.”

“But I can.”

“That’s not fair!” Rowan gasped. “I-I wanna… Finish.”

“Life ain’t fair, love,” Hancock smirked hearing the confidence in her words for a moment. “Rule number forty-five of the commonwealth…” He slid his fingers down between her slick lips feeling at her entrance feeling the small hole craving to suck him in. “You gotta know what you want and not be afraid to say it.”

“I wanna finish.” Her voice was more courageous this time.

“Say it nicer, just because it’s me.” He carefully curved a digit inside of her inching in little by little. Rowan was vice tight around his digit causing him to hiss through his teeth.

“I wanna come, please!” She cried, almost jumping when he pressed his thumb on her clit with a finger knuckle deep inside her. Hancock couldn’t deny her then with how absolutely darling she sounded moaning for him. She was the most artful burst when she came undone the moment he thrust his finger in the right place. She threw out strings of pastel colors into his black world. Everything about him was slapping her left and right. The gorgeous streams of color from heaven themselves, all because he made the pretty dove sing. Rowan clung to him weakly as she came down from her high.

She was flushing with bashfulness eyes watery from the force of her orgasm. He rested her legs back on solid ground, and this was the awkward part. Hoping she didn’t cry from regret or end up puking on him. Instead, she looked almost sober. She stepped back into her pants when he caught her by the chin, “You okay?” She snuck a kiss muttering, “Fantastic. Thank you.”

Thank you? That word never turned him on before. Watching Rowan retreat, he knew he’d need an hour to himself tops to get off on tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me be honest I have no idea what i've got in mind for this story.

Was Hancock high? Fuck yeah he was, the ghoul was floating up to the clouds as weightless as a swaying feather. Was he feeling the chems? Yeah, he was, but it was Rowan. She became a victim of lust since the escapade a few nights prior, and it was the taste of her lips as sweet as red wine and tasting of dirt and holy water. She straddled his waist the moment they got time alone expanding their search along with some abandoned subways.

Hancock decided to split with her, dogmeat surveying with Nate. Hancock had just finished shooting out some radroach when he felt the jet jolt his system into a hyper-aware psychosis. Every little speck of dust in the air that touched his ruined skin was like a tap, and when she huddled behind him to hide in his back.

Unable to help himself, he rounded them so he could kick the door shut behind them locking them inside the destroyed bathroom. There was enough light from dangling strips dripping from the speckled ceiling. He could see the dark flame he lit up in her, a piece of the devil inserting himself in holy space. Rowan audibly keened in that special way she did when he made her legs weak, and her nipples harder. He smashed their mouths together mingling red wine and radiated water simmering the heat between the two of them.

She had a fire in her eyes miles and counties wide when he bit her lower lip. “We doin’ this?” Hancock asked, rolling his hips down on hers the moment she went to answer. She sucked in her lower lip to muffle the pretty sounds that rang from her angelic throat.

“Touch me.” She whispered through her teeth. Somewhere amidst the intense lip lock, Hancock lost his footing the moment he felt the skin on her back against his fingertips when he undid her jumper.

Rowan giggled, sitting up from where she collided her cheek on his chest from the fall. Hancock decided, he liked this image so, so much more. She followed whatever freaky instinct she had grown in her. She wanted quick, rough, something to hurt her. It was something filthy the ghoul would continue to harp on. She lost the top of her jumpsuit exposing her perky bouncy breasts he loved to play with. He grasped them in his too hot palms the moment they met the cold frigid air of the bunker. “Shit.” She whimpered, intoxicated by the sensual aroma the ghoul dripped like water from a spout.

“Don’t fight it, Doe…” He purred, leaning up to nip her earlobe. The ghoul managed to wiggle free of his jeans enough to feel the slickness of her clammy jumpsuit against his hardened cock. Rowan felt it too because she tensed at the sudden third leg in the situation. “I-Is that..?” She looked down to see the veiny marred cock poking up between her legs. The blush on her face was so cute, he almost felt bad for starting to corrupt her. “A dick, sugar.” He purred, angling his hands up into the thick locks of auburn he lusted after for so long.

She bit down on her lip wiggling out of her pants so quick she almost slipped the moment her trembling need was exposed - and more tamed than before. “You have been preparing.” Hancock accused in an amused chuckle. She ducked her head so vulnerable to know she was predictable, or needy. Yearning to be filled in a whole new way, in a dirty way.

“Hey, now…” The ghoul crooned, licking along her exposed neck, nipping at that special spot on her neck. “Think it’s sexy you were preparin’...” He pulled back to glance her over. “You wanna be on top?” Rowan blinked a few times before she remembered she was about to fuck Hancock - a ghoul. “I-I…” She shook her head quickly. “I’ve never done it before. Won’t it hurt?” The ghoul felt guilt jolt through him that he was purely taking advantage of someone so innocent. “Not if we take it slow. You don’t gotta do it, Row…” He encouraged placing soft little lingering pecks along her neck. “No is always an answer.”

Rowan nodded, loving the fireworks exploding all over her body. She ran her fingers between her weeping lips whispering, “I want to. Just…” She fisted his cock a little too roughly. He groaned muttering pain through his teeth, “Easy… It ain’t as hard as it seems, babe.”

The vault dweller flushed again adjusting the glasses by the legs, but he was encouraging her. He showed her how to curl her fingers just right up against the swollen tip feeling the pulsing shaft under her fingers. She led him to her entrance, grabbing his shoulder, then the stall wall around them.

He carefully pushed up and her cooed once she felt herself opening. Hancock stuck to his word and held her with each little bit he pushed into her. He should have felt bad feeling such a pure woman surrounding his member, in such a predicament. They only had a limited time before Nate came back to look, as much as he wanted to take his time, Hancock knew there was no such thing in the Commonwealth.

She bottomed out and she cried out the moment she sat against his balls, her womb cradling the tip of his cock. The pearly gates have opened to him, and he could hear the angels singing in her cries of pleasure. Hancock had to muffle a sound into his shoulder at how fucking tight she was, how great the golden warmth radiating on him was. He rolled his hips slowly with each thrust, savoring the massaging ridges in her walls. “Harder.” She gasped, much to his surprise. “Are you-” He attempted. Rowan nodded and attacked his lips like a predator going ham on its prey. It was all tongue, spit, and teeth. It was that dark sheltered side Hancock was able to bring out of her.

He thrust up into her hugging her little hips, moans muffled by the taste of her nipple in his mouth. Rowan had never in her life felt so good. His tongue lapped at the tip of her nipple, teeth dragging with just the right amount of pressure to make her jolt each time he tugged away. She was drunk with lust, with a sinful deed. She wanted to feel bad about it, but this was the ultimate form of rebellion. The ultimate fuck you to the roots which she stemmed from.

Rowan's body was gorgeous slick with clamminess of their combined body heat. “Do me, please.” Rowan whimpered between her teeth, loving how rough he was hammering into her. He seemed to know exactly what she needed without her having to ask. The higher her moans became, the closer he knew where to angle his hips at. What surprised him was when she whispered in his ear, “Hurt me.” It was the devil in disguise as a snake that slithered into his brain and drenched the most sexiest need he’d ever indulge in.

“Yell apples if it hurts too much.” Hancock urged.

He yanked that red hair back and the sparks that flew through her spine was enough to have her falling over the cum filled cliff. Her glasses tumbled tot he floor and cracked in some places, but she didn't care whatsoever and he wasn't complaining. Her hair was as wild as her urgent hips were bucking. "More, more!" She climaxed with waves so hard Hancock’s length had no time but to combust with her. He’d have to get her some rad-x for the next time, assuming they’d be regular fuckbuddies after this.

You, Rowan, panted feeling something new warming between her legs making her feel absolutely filthy. “D-did you cum in me?” She squeaked, panic written all over her face. Hancock felt terrible immediately seeing the distraught expression on her face. “Easy, easy doll…” He purred, petting his fingers through the back of her hair. “Ghouls are sterile, it’s okay. I’ll get you some radaway, we got plenty of…” She nodded a little bit, pulling herself free off his cock with a filthy suction that made his cock twitch back to life again.

He measured Rowan’s expression expecting to see the poor girl in tears by any moment now. She stepped back into her jumpsuit after wiping herself clean. She left him still soiled over his pants. It came to him that this was just a pure experiment… She didn’t care that he was still sitting there, cock out, watching her preparing to leave without looking back. She was using him just the way he was using her innocence. Not her, he found the girl appealing. It was having the victory of knowing he owned a little bit fo someone else’s heaven. Kept him even on the karma scale.

She looked back at him with a bashful smile that absolutely destroyed him, the little bits he was able to build up by fucking someone as sweet as Rowan. “Need help?” The question was so genuine, and fuck, if he didn’t love being her little puppy dog for the moment. It was the drugs, the ghoul reminded himself. He shook his head smacking her plump ass. “Round two later?” He breathed, tucking himself away not caring for his soiled jeans.

Her face crumbled a little with something he couldn’t see. “You liked it?” She asked. “I was your first, and doll, we’re gonna go through this experience together…” He cupped her chin drawing his thumb along her swollen lower lip, “Trust me, doll. I think I loved it.” They were words he meant, just because to him, fucking was almost like love, but without commitment. And her chemistry was just right for now. He’d handle his little crush on her later.

They pretended like neither saw the weird look from Nate once they all caught back up. He saw her disheveled hair and her ruined jumpsuit still partly unzipped between her shoulders, hair stuck in it too. Hancock smiled so innocently, and Nate knew he was gonna have to kick his ass for this later.”So…” Nate drawled sarcastically. “I suspect you found a tunnel?”

Hancock snickered, “Yeah. I did. Wasn’t one to be used for escapin’ though.” The blush riddled across Rowan’s freckled face was a tell-tale sign of their activities he expunged her in.”What ‘bout you popsicle?”

“Leads right to the sewer in front of Diamond City,” Nate muttered gruffly, using the strict undertone to remind him she a little off limits for him to fuck with. “No harm no foul. Now, we gonna get back home to Goodneighbor, or we gonna prolong our travels another day?” Nate muttered something unintelligible beneath his breath about an “annoying jughead.” Hancock smirked, looking to her with barely raised eyebrows. “Watch this.” He whispered to the side, fishing in his pockets for the smoke grenade.

Hooking his finger in her launched its feet ahead of the leading vault dweller. The smoke plumes made him tumble right off to the side out of shock with the most embarrassing shriek Hancock had ever heard come from a grown man. Rowan’s laugh was something he didn’t think he’d ever once tire of hearing. Watching the scene, it made Nate frown to himself in disgust knowing the happy moment would have to be broken sooner or later. For now, he laughed, because that’s all he could do until they got to Hancock’s town and got to business once again.

Hancock was taking in the little bit of fun he could have with her. He advanced to secret touches and tiny kisses when she would become all comfortable without that ‘just fucked’ neon sign in her tight ass walk. It excited him to know he had been deep in them guts earlier, and she seemed to be on the same page about all of this. Buried within the rubble of his heart he knew no one would have his attention like Rowan. Her brains, her sweetheart, and how perfect she was in the afterglow of sex.

He wouldn’t admit to falling in love, but he would tell you in a heartbeat, she was his favorite. He stayed beneath her the moment they reached the ladder leading out. Nate when ahead and shoved the grate with an aggressive grunt that sounded more like a dirty holotape on repeat for some hair gay guy. Rowan was grinning the moment she was freed from the familiar dingy arms of the sewer base. She inhaled with an excited squeal standing in front of- “Fenway Park.” She breathed with stars in her eyes.

She raced forward to the gate burying her nose into the metal grate cooing, “There’s really people inside?” She turned around in a little dance her smile a huge crescent across her pretty face. Hancock audibly inhaled, his heart catching in his throat of how goddamn gorgeous she was when she spotted something she loved. He hoped he never saw her look at him like that. Nate chuckled at the ghoul looping an ar around Rowan’s shoulder like an old friend. “I’ll show you someday.” He offered. “But Goodneighbor calls us first.”

“Is it big and pretty like this?” she mused back at Hancock. Catching a scowl on his mouth he muttered, “It’s gorgeous in its own right. There’s more history.” She smiled in that warm way. She was electricity shooting through his bones, frying the common sense in his brain. He could easily go insane with the way her lips felt. He was aching for it again. She grinned over shoulder flashing him a happy little wink. “We’re gonna experience this together, right?” She quoted him with a playful smirk. Hancock stared wide-eyed after her in amazement.

It shouldn’t have shaken him to his core seeing Rowan dancing through the gates of Goodneighbor the starstruck awe on her face was a dead giveaway. “Aye, Johnny boy!” Fahrenheit called up from the banister with the familiar trouble making smirk. He never did fail to miss the fiery-tempered redhead when he was away. “Hey, bitch!” He greeted with a wave of his hat chuckling when she disappeared from view. As much as he missed this town, seeing Rowan under the glow of lights like his town would never once fail to make him feel something like home, but seeing it in a person. Feeling it.

The lovestruck stare didn’t dare escape Fahrenheit’s gaze either. “Who’s the chick?” She tossed a thumb in Rowan’s direction. She was racing back and forth between stores with Nate watching after her like an exasperated older brother. Hancock chortled in amusement leaning his arm up against the thick armor on hers. “That my dear Celsius,” The ghoul drawled his eyebrows waggling suggestively, “Is Rowan Fairchild. We rescued him from a vault.”

Fahrenheit scoffed, “What is it with you and these weird vault cavemen?” She muttered screwing her face up in disbelief. “What’s her backstory? And dare I ask if you’ve managed to sleep with her?”

Hancock shouldn’t have been proud, but he was. “I rocked her tiny world.” He boasted, elbowing her side with a dashing smile. “She ain’t so bad. Much softer than I think you’d expect out of a person-”

“John!” Rowan called. She drew his attention like a whistle at a dog. Fahrenheit’s eyebrow shot up. “Yeah. Who’s soft?” She muttered, watching him walk away with the middle finger sprung towards her. She could read the way his body immediately swayed in her direction and the mild defensive tightening of his calves told Fahrenheit everything she needed to know. She wondered then, who fucked who, if Hancock was as whipped as a Brahmin? She was willing to be five caps that it was Rowan.

Where was Deacon when she needed him? She’d have to find him and make this a thing.

He encased her from behind hugging her shoulders against his chest just out of instinct. The feeling of her against him sent him buzzing like a happy little stingwing. He was back on the edge of the bridge again facing the unknowing void. Her smile is like a cool breeze through the pores of his clothes pushing him closer to falling into it - into her. He didn’t wanna get hooked, he couldn’t afford it. But damn, if she wasn’t addicting.

He loved her fragile heart and admired from afar how the commonwealth hadn’t taken the softness from her. In the moment of her head on his shoulder smiling up at him like he was the only thing she saw, he wanted to smother her lips to relinquish the drunken dream again and again. It was terrifying, realizing you were steadily falling for someone. One moment she’s just a thought in your head, then she mortalizes in front of you like some synth. She was painted with bashfulness and pride, a soft feeling heart, and a steady set of brains.

He gave in throwing his arms out inhaling her breath when he kissed her so softly, falling into the adoring perfume of her. It was exuberating to be sailing on this high, but even better, when she responded. It didn’t mean the same thing for her, as it did for him, and he was fine. It was all her body craving that trickle of pleasure through such a sensible body so alien to the foreign concept of sex. If he got to touch her, that’s all he cared about.

She tore from him whispering, “Is there a bar?” Hancock almost tore out laughing his bare eyebrows jetting up to meet his hat. “You do realize who you’re talking to, right?” Nate hooked his arm through Rowan’s whispering in her ear, “I’ll introduce you to a few friends of mine. I think the mayor has some work to do.” Aka, “I’m taking her so Fahrenheit can give you a chewing out.”

There were plenty of rumors affairs being whispered about, and no doubt he just sparked one by kissing the prettiest girl with a childish giggle, a tender heart. He threw the doors to the old storehouse closed sluggishly apprehending his best friend strewn out on the couch, leg dangling off the arm of the couch she had them perched on. “Hi there, mayor. Glad you’re here to join us. How was the trip?” He didn’t miss the sardonic humor cackling in her question. “The actual travels, if you would. I know the drugs.”

“Ya haven’t met Rowan have ya?”

“You saying she gets you high?”

He shrugged innocently slinging himself back in the rolling leather chair before his desk. He threw his legs up carelessly flinging open a drawer full of jet inhalers. He shook it distractedly telling her, “She’s an undercover freak. Virginity is such an interesting concept.” He took in a valid hit until his lengths tickled with the familiar irritation of the chem. He blew it out tilting his head back on the wall with a blissful smile.

“Virginity is often something girls who’ve been sheltered like her swear to protect. And not to be that person, however,” The bodyguard plopped her ass on top of the table tapping a finger under the inhaler in his hands to finish it off with a big breath. “It’s something new for her. You’re opening a new door she hadn’t ever seen before. That’s dangerous.”

“Is it?” Hancock mused quizzically. “It’s just two friends fucking. We both know that.”

“Yeah, but, do you?”

The question caught him off guard causing the ghoul to snap his mouth shut. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He demanded hesitantly. He didn’t like that no-nonsense frown she was giving him directions. “Kissing her?”

“Platonic.”

“You about the free love shit now?”

“If we gotta put a label on it…”

“John McDonough.”

Agitation surged through him. “Don’t use my surname.” He snapped slamming his boots to the floor putting another hole in the rickety floor. The ghoul rolled his eyes with an irritated groan slamming his head down on the desk. “She’s a pretty young girl. She’ll get tired of me and move on at some point once she realizes there’s bigger and better.”

She nudged his head over until he turned his cheek to look up at her. “Are you John Hancock, or some bitch?”

He sat up quickly. “I am that bitch.” He stated.

“Then act like it!” She mused tiredly, smiling comfortingly down at him despite the softness pulling at the edge of his mouth. “You need to hold yourself higher. Drugs not included.” She swung her leg from over the edge of it, sauntering out to pick up the stacks of paper bundled up in his mailbox by his door. She dumped it with a cheeky grin, “Welcome back, mayor."


	8. Chapter 8

She had a soul for runnin’, Hancock realized watching his little doe legged love bounding around Goodneighbor welcoming an NCR vet by the name of Boone with the grandest of smiles. Rowan peered to the steel-eyed soldier with a look he knew so well. Her eyes were like giant glittering crystals behind the lenses that framed that pretty heartshaped face when she polished him over with a look of both wonder and awe.

Craig Boone was one of the hardest shells to crack, and Hancock chuckled sadly. That poor bastard, he’d fall to Hancock’s fate. He’d open up to those big doe eyes and fall in love with that dazzling heart she carried. Hancock had been a new experience opening doors for the little wanderer. She was now onto bigger and better, just as Nate had predicted.

The whole night Goodneighbor celebrated with booze and guns and drugs, and a few fucks too. He could see a couple getting it on from their shadows, hidden behind a corner alley. Hancock sat up in his balcony chugging beers watching the Third Rail turn itself inside out to accommodate the outside dining and party scene. Cuck set out a little bar with small metal grate tables outside.

Rowan sat in the corner with Boone and Nate, her chin in her palms. She could see the sniper’s emotionless face, his lips set in a line and speaking. She was three sheets to the wind watching with unmasked desire. Her thick hair was braided down her back, and her pretty bangs curled to touch her eyebrows now. They blew in the wind when someone nearby played the trumpet to an old-timey tune Hancock couldn’t place.

He thought he saw her eyes meet his a little, but he figured she was too far to see him. He hit up jet too many and the floor was looking pretty damn good right now. He went to pinch the bridge of his nose stopping short when nothing was there. Right.

He was a ghoul.

The mayor drunkenly sunk down in his little lawn chair watching the explosions of fireworks, feeling the buzz of his proud little town. How they welcomed the former soldier with a greeting much more intimately than Diamond City could ever think to.

These drifters were the heart of everything. They came unashamed, not hiding a damn thing. They were stuck to a script and false qualm of peace like Diamond City. There was nothing better than hearty people, baring their all…

This is what peace was like, Hancock reminisced hearing a nearby snort from Fahrenheit. “That a good hit?” She taunted, going at his slump leg. The ghoul simply turned his head making puckering noises at her.

“Good enough for me to find ya attractive.” He bit back sardonically, nearly avoiding a stomp on the groin from his bodyguard. The ghoul laughed then showing up another inhaler for her. “Don’t lemme do this alone, now. What happened to best buds?”

“How old is that cannabis joke?”

“Best buds!”

Fahrenheit groaned slumping down damn near quaking this faulty wood paneling under them. She swiped it and hit it a little too aggressively for her to be enjoying it. “Slow down, man… This is a groove, not a mission.” The feisty redhead looked over at him with a watered-down attempt of a scowl his way.

“It’s been a while since we got stoned together.” She feigned to be hurt, laying her head on the side of his chair. “Thought ya replaced me with Ol’ Nate…”

There was true intent beneath her words, a small piece of insecurity there. “I could never replace ya, Fahr.” He assured turning to look over at her. “Nate’s a damn good man, but you’re my longest friend, ya hear?” He clapped her on the back pulling their fists together in their manly way of holding hands without the actual hand holding. “You’re my first mate.” Hancock purred, slobbering a kiss into her hair.

Fahrenheit scowled and smacked him swiping her hair with his sleeve anxiously. “Rads, you got cooties!” But she was softer now. The two sat in silence a moment when Hancock announced dejectedly,

“Think this ol’ ghoul actually needs his beauty sleep.”

Fahrenheit snorted at him when he wobbled trying to avoid the pretty lights in the sky waving at him. He followed a foot with each step he took. Maybe it was the drugs or even the sight of seeing Hancock struggling so, Fahrenheit snorted with that obnoxious snorting snicker she did when she was really tickled.

The moment the ghoul stripped of his boots and coat laying in a ransacked shirt untucked from his sagging jeans he was floating. Not even that, he was in the storm with the wind whistling after a traumatic calm. He could hear the raindrops, thunder, threading together like heavenly choir beneath the therapeutic blows of the cyclones.

The bass struck like drums around him with each pulsating charge of lightning through his system. He opened his eyes and there she found the musky green clouds. There was Rowan, peering down at him like a musky beautiful goddess from some Greek mythology.

She bowed down whispering in his ear, “Touch me like before.” He felt her palms on his face and tasted the deep red wine she loved mixed with her. The water to wine biblical scripture was true because she was spicing up everything in his life He was coming back to himself when it dawned on him, she was there. She was straddling his waist with her braid wildly coming undone and brushing his collarbones. “Row, what’re ya-” She cut him off with her wild tongue and he was hers for that moment.

He knew the signs of leavin’, making the boldest move one could possibly believe to do, and Rowan had come onto him first. She was taking charge of his reigns. And that, he thought, was a hell of a way to go. Hancock cupped the back of her neck already fingering the button on her pants undone.

Rowan keened with excitement all but kicking the fuckers off. She already had his cock in her hand pumping it like a sudden little expert. The ghoul smirked up at her seeing the emerald blaze in her eyes.

He turned them over this time whispering in her ear, “Remember our word?”

Rowan nodded whispering to him, “Hancock, please. John.” With burning eyes, throwing her glasses to the side somewhere. His name never brought him much thought or bearings, it was something different when her husky hushed purr touched him in a whole new way.

He threw one of her legs over his shoulder hissing when her baby soft skin glided on his cheeks, and the tip of his cock was welcomed in her all over again. He couldn’t get enough of feelin’ her, touchin’ her this way.

Her skin was slippery slick against his rough exterior and he loved it. Her hands gripped his shoulders, fingers tearing off his buttons just to touch him Feel where the radiation ate his skin like turkey skin during thanksgiving brunch. She craved him, to feel every inch she could while he was exposed to her, for her.

“Yes!” She whined, hips jerking when he dove in on one brutal slam up into her. He smirked watching her breasts free themselves of that dainty shirt she was wearing.

He loved hearing her talk. “Say something else.” He encouraged her, pulling out to rub the tip of his cock between her mushy lips. Rowan’s face was flushed, even he could tell through the hazy lights not hidden by the blinds.

“W-what?” She whispered, hips trying in vain to touch her right there. “

I like hearin’ ya do the dirty talkin’.” He chuckled. “You’re so pretty. Say you want my cock.”

“I want your cock.” She whimpered, growing discouraged again, “Please?” She added meekly.

Hancock laughed at her but thrust in anyways adoring the way her confusion went to one of bliss. She clawed at his hips until the threw both of her legs together pounding in harder than he ever had before with her. Something broke in Rowan then and she comes undone in floods and floods of electrical currents.

“Sh-shit! I’m cumming!” Her voice was animalistic and that right there helped him flood her pearly gates again. This time there was no complaining instead she growled passionately, “Give me your filthy seed.” and rolled her hips down to bury him as deep as she could create more of a mess.

He created a monster. He didn’t wanna move from seeing her so spent, her body glowing with the dying lust in the room. He didn’t wanna know when he woke up tomorrow she’d be gone. She sat up much to his surprise pushing him back to straddle him again.

She kissed him so hard he thought he’d shatter under all the weight of guilt and regret was on her shoulders. She retreated back and just like that he was in the center of her hurricane again. He was never gonna get out, no matter how far she’d go, she’d come back around.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep that night. The chems and the wild lady riding him most of the night tuckered him out. However, he was right. The following morning he woke alone. Except for a copy of Lord of the Flies on her pillow. It was the worst fuckin’ feelin’... Hancock muttered.

He prepared himself accordingly just to see if the truth was any less real and it was his paranoid mind. Low and behold, Daisy had seen Rowan and Boone out. Taking in his wrecked expression she blinked a few times.

“You two weren’t dating were you? Did you give her the grand tour of the town?” Daisy pressed like the gossip queen she is. “You did kiss her that day, and Deacon hadn’t been tryin’ to weasel me outta more caps.”

Hancock groaned audibly not understanding this sudden pit opening up in his stomach. He looked at the ground thinking for a moment. “We slept together, it was just friendship.” That’s what the real truth was, and maybe Fahrenheit had been right. Had he known that this wasn’t some fair trade for love?

The ghoul faked a smile like always. “More pretty gals around.” He mused with a dark chuckle not masking any of the rage stacking like heavy building blocks inside his being. He was lying to himself just to make it feel real. Even for… For just the smallest amount of time… He was a ghost drifting through time. He was going shot for shot for shot and having the forced time of his life.

Nate and Fahrenheit took it upon themselves to yank him from the bar stool and get his crude drunkness away from public eyes. “He’s not handlin’ the whole distance thing.” Fahrenheit heaved hauling up the town’s leader up the swirling steps of the old state house. “I’d say. It’s been three hours.”

“She fucked me dry, Nate…” Hancock croaked. The statement made his bodyguard drop him in her fits of laughter. Hancock hadn’t even registered the fact half his body slugged down to the ground like putty. “She’s a minx.” The ghoul droned dramatically.

The scene of her taking part in something as sinful as Hancock had the poor vault dweller’s stomach-churning because Rowan had been… So different. Not touched by him.

Nate sneered in disgust tossing the mayor’s body with a scowl. “Get up on your own.”

Hancock rolled onto his back gliding down to the bottom.

Fahrenheit snorted at him patting Nate dismissively on his shoulder. “Think I got this from here.” She reassured him with a crooked little smile. “I’ve handled this many times. Sometimes it gets bloody. Come back during business hours.” She offered with a cheeky smile full of violent intentions. As long as she didn’t pull out Ashmaker on him, hell, he was out.

Hancock just stood up like a dramatic teenager when Fahrenheit bent into his peripheral vision. “So ya can’t handle being the dumpee?” She guessed, plopping down next to him. “Come to talk to daddy.” She offered.

The ghoul simply rolled his head against her lap tipping the front part of his hat off. “She was gonna leave and I knew it. Maybe I had a little fancy, but… She was pure. But she ain’t near ready to slow down. She’s eighteen.”

“She’s a kid.” She reminded him with a sad little smile. “Just keep that in mind. You’ll find better, hey, you never know… She might come back.” It was stupid words to say to someone who probably wouldn’t recall this conversation. Probably better so he didn’t get hooked on the idea that hey if you keep thinking she’ll come back, you’ll be happy anytime the gate to the city opens. You’re gonna be so excited each new time you’re disappointed.

All good things come to an end, even the gifts that whatever higher power shone down on him gave. He took Rowan away just as quick as he handed to her to him wrapped in golden ribbons He could have asked her to stay, but he would have cut her right to freedom if he’d done it. He hated feeling the slickness of his body still gliding against his in the fits of passion. He wanted to forget every little mewl and cry of pleasure, the feeling of her surrounding his cock, her legs shaking when she came.

He found beauty in the sickest moments. When the human body was becoming animalistic with desire poisoned by the lust that caused so many to go wild and get off on unmentionable things.

But one thing he knew was that the storm she was would rock his little town again, rock him.

Nate gave him a sympathetic look when he showed his face back in his office. “John-” He attempted, but the ghoul smiled in a way that made him feel a little sick. His eyes, usually empty looking, were definitely void of any good emotions.

When he grinned it didn’t stretch far, it wasn’t even enough to pass as his signature crooked smile. Hancock knew it was over because the moment didn’t last for long. He was a damn fool to get caught up on someone like her with wandering eyes and a traveler’s soul.

How could he even be mad? He’d taken up traveling with Nate just to see the world again - and that's what he was getting ready to do this very moment.

“That Boone guy was something.” Nate brought up when Hancock tucked his knife into the waistband of his pants.

The ghoul froze with his back to Nate not trusting himself to talk without sounding envious that the man hadn’t only caught Rowan’s attention - but also one of his best friends. “Yeah?” He poured himself a glass of whiskey filling it to the brim.

Replacing the lid on the glass flask, he braced his lower back on the bar crossing his ankles together. He ignored the impressed smile on the vault dweller’s face when he downed the glass within seconds.

Nate inhaled through his nose nonchalantly slumping down on the couch, “He’s so intense I thought he could be a synth. No emotion, but pretty fucking tough.”

“He’s so intense, my dick got hard.” Hancock mocked in a nasal whine voice rolling his eyes irritatedly. “He’s part of a faction that hunted the Brotherhood back in Vegas. They ain’t no better.”

“They’re a lot like the Minutemen.” Nate’s voice was curt, collected. Tight. “They don’t seek out control as the Brotherhood does.”

“Right.” Hancock drawled, already fisting the whiskey again. “But they also do try to man the lands they inherit or take over with sudden laws. Who are they to take it away? Not to mention their corrupt system.”

“There’s exploitation in every faction. Think Preston enjoys firing people for me?”

“Fact remains, I don't like ‘em.” The ghoul shrugged with some final pretending he wasn’t holding an invisible grudge on the Boone guy.

“Anyways,” The dark-haired male began again. “He was there with the courier who overtook the Dam. History has really fucking changed after the fallout. I thought that dam would’ve been blown to hell and back after all of the nuclear bombs. It’s amazing.”

He often forgot Nate was prewar. The idea still fascinated him. “Have any idea where Rowan went with him?” Hancock asked after a moment. Nate tensed visibly and the affirmation made the ghoul glare. “Don’tcha lie to me.”

“He was heading to DC…”

“So she’s gonna be there with him?”

She was so goddamn far away. The ghoul had to laugh though, because goddamn, she pulled the wool over his eyes, didn’t she? Someone who was terrified of her own shadow and jumped if you jerked your hand too fast. Someone as soft as her travelin' with someone who fought in multiple wars.

Who had his life together, not addicted to chems, or the slur of a drunken night when life got too hard. He was a systematic mess scattered all around the Commonwealth. He buried himself in other people, and when he buried himself in her, he felt pulled together as if he hadn't ever been in more than one piece. She was going to the ruins of DC, going to live life with the pretty soldier boy. She had to have one more bite of sin. He hoped that was enough to bring her back someday.

Nate noted the solemn silence from the ghoul leaning across from him. "Did something happen between the two of you?"

"Obviously. She came in last night and rocked my world with her pretty body." He chuckled dryly. "Woke up to this news this mornin'. Doesn't always make ya feel good waking up alone when it comes to someone as solid as her. Hopefully, she stays gone." He admitted.

Nate's eyebrow bucked up his shadowed jaw clenching. "John-"

The ghoul shrugged off every problem. "Let's go to therapy." He offered with a too chipper smile. "There's a few raiders hangin' on. Let's kill tonight."


	9. Chapter 9

Hancock had found his pride tremendously shaken when Rowan pulled his infamous fuck and dash movement - on him. He had to take some time to recover from it, but after the first few months, he hardly thought of her. All up until she started sending letters.

She was in New Vegas, then in California. DC, West Virginia, where she ended up residing last he heard. It’d been a stretch of four years where either vault dweller nor mayor had spoken. He’d write a letter just to trash it because they had no real reason to keep contact.

One of the last scriptures he received from her back in December was, “West Virginia is beautiful, kind of untouched by radiation.” There was something wet on the paper like she’d been sobbing when she wrote it, and his heart hurt a little. “I miss home though. I might stop by New England sometime.”

Since then, the ghoul had subconsciously been watching the door to Goodneighbor as she’d walk through any moment. He felt nothing for the girl- so he thought.

That was until she stumbled up in his line of sight leaving the Third Rail with one of the ghoul drifters he’d picked up for the night. His arm was slung carelessly over her shoulder talking himself up because he knows she’d never remember. He was laughing at something she said - and he met those tourmaline eyes with a stop that punched him right in the gut.

She wasn’t wearing glasses and he could see those doe eyes glittering with something too kind to be happy. “Shit.” He whispered out in disbelief, all the drinks wearing down at the sight of her.

The ghoul at his side, half of her face still perfectly soft from where the rads hadn’t eaten, followed his gaze in confusion. “I’d ask if ya knew her,” Came her thick Boston accent, “But that look on ya face says a ghost rose from the grave to come after ya.” She wiggled out of his shoulder with an eyebrow raised skeptically.

He immediately looped his arm back around the ghoul’s waist. “I’m fine pixie.”

“Trixie.” She snapped irritably. She lost her hostility when Rowan smiled his way.

She wasn’t at all chubby when he met her, but she was much more slender now. Muscular form the midriff she saw from the shredded t-shirt she wore off her shoulder. Her Auburn hair sat up in a messy bun exposing the bunch of freckles she gained over the years. Besides appearing tired, nothing about her had changed too much. She carried herself with a new maturity and hated saying it, but he found himself in a trance staring into the russet eyes.

“You gonna stare or do I gotta drag you?” She laughed as if they were just old friends. Not someone Hancock had honestly ended up hooking feelings for.

“Uh…” His eyes slid down to Trixie who was scowling back up at him.

“Ya gonna introduce me, John?” Narrowing his charcoal eyes some, he hissed in a hushed murmur, “Hancock.” The ghoul woman threw her eyes in a loop making her way over despite the inner panic lacing in his excitement. Rowan looked shocked herself, she couldn’t hide it if she attempted it.

She was in his world again stirring it up just like that - and this random girl was gonna give his reputation even more of a sour upbringing. Rowan had always been kind. It didn’t surprise him to see her eyes scrunch up in delight taking both of Trixie’s hands in two of hers with a joyous smile three counties wide.

He followed suit counting each step to keep his nonchalant walk as even, as erect, as ever. He wanted to give her no hint of how much of a disturbance this put in his head.

“I was wondering when you’d come to say hi.” Her voice was still the pillow soft mutter he remembered, but she carried no heavyweight that dragged her shoulders down.

Hancock cleared his throat of the ball in it. “Hey, Row.” He awkwardly muttered. He cringed when his voice cracked. She giggled and fuck if ghouls could blush…

“Pixie is really nice.” She commented, and he swore, for a moment, there was something dark about the way she smiled at him. He seemed to be right. Just as quick as that cloud swarmed overhead, it cleared when she looked over at Fahrenheit seamlessly watching the encounter from the balcony.

She puffed on a cigarette with a smirk around it. “Hey, traveler.” She called down as a greeting.

Hancock scowled up at her for not coming to his aid on this. She simply shrugged enjoying her best friend squirming. Rowan’s teeth were stark white against her dust ridden body, and goddamn, what he wouldn’t do to see it in action again.

Pixie fisted his hand in her wrought-iron fingers through his bringing him back to the plans he had that night. It seemed like a setup, and he wanted no part in it. “It was nice meeting you.” Pixie grinned too sweetly. She tugged him behind her inside the state house.

“See you around, Row.” He called from over his shoulder the heels of his boots tracking behind him from the sheer force of the ghoul woman.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Rowan tied up the Brahmin pulling her caravan keeping her back to him the moment the door clicked shut vibrating her whole body.

Hancock couldn’t even focus on the task at hand knowing Rowan was back in town - and she might not possibly be there by morning.

He’d fuck and go, and hope to God she was somewhere in town when he was done.

He’d get out of it, but pixie made it clear on her plans. He ignored Fahrenheit leaning on the wall near his office. She gave him a disapproving smirk when the red duster blew past her like a horse in a race. That was the last thing he saw before his mouth was busy on another stranger’s.

Rowan hadn’t known her return to town had been so significant considering she was only in town for a day or two before she left. Seating herself at the stool in the Third Rail she thumbed through the bag of caps she needed just looking for a good glass of wine.

The chair beside her scraped violently against the cement terrain catching the flicker of the traveler’s attention. Fahrenheit plopped down in all her red and orange fiery essence. It used to intimidate Rowan, but truthfully, it kind of turned her on how ballsy the woman was.

Admired her, even.

Rowan chucked a few mouthfuls of wine reveling in how good the sting of alcohol was on such a sandpaper throat. Snorting in bemusement the guard shook her head over the brim of a whiskey glass. “What brought you back here?” The woman pressed the moment the bottom of her cup clattered on the counter.

The surgeon shrugged sloppily, “Looking for a place to hang my hat.” She responded honestly.

Her eyes were on the red wine now staining her lips and a little bit of the upper one too. She didn’t buy it in the least. “Not to dog ya down there, Row.” She laughed wholeheartedly. She chuckled like it was the funniest to joke to her. Rowan didn’t recall in the slightest why she seemed target of her jesters.

“This place wasn’t for someone like you. Fresh out of a cold little world where everything was handed to you. After escaping this hellhole to ravage the next one…” She whipped around boring her steel gaze into Rowan’s fluid oceanic green masses.

The traveler felt like a bug trapped under a cup at that moment, and couldn’t possibly to find one place to hide with her on every roundabout. “Why Goodneighbor? What attachment you got here besides our good ol’ mayor, huh?” The probing question quick turned accusingly to her and the mayor’s past affairs.

“You know nothing.” Rowan snapped like a gator, and Fahrenheit’s eyes flashed in caution. She was warning her not to tread her waters, because she could destroy her at any moment. She could deal with the guilt if Fahrenheit made it look like a bloody accident. She had enough bad karma, why not earn a little more?

Checking her busted nail beds as if to look as nonchalant as possible, She thumbed over the nail she was snagging, “Just know. Any harm comes to that good ass man because of you, sweet cheeks…” She snagged her by the wrist with a steel vice grip. Her smile was so so betraying and kind, she patronized, “I’ll skin you alive.” Tossing a handful of caps at Chuck, eyes on Rowan with ill intent.

They broke their eye contact and the traveler thunked her head on the table with a moan.

“Reckon you need another,” Charlie muttered, noticing the altercation distinctly.

She nodded resting her chin into her palm leaning her elbow there.

Some people felt like home, and this is where her heart always called her. Rowan always got excited whenever she had caravans coming from the commonwealth through DC. She’d secretly pack up little things in hopes someone, someday, could recognize it to be her. How could they?

Maybe some energy thing or something, Rowan thought to herself. Boone taught her how to carve wooden sculptures. Here and there she’d carve letters with her initials down at the bottom. Once or twice she stumbled on traders marveling over this supposed art. She was a surgeon and an artist.

Boone had loved her, he was cold and harsh. Much like her brother, the only coordination between the two. He was tough and rugged, and hurt her when she needed it. He terrified her, and it excited her. Even then with marvelous sex, intimate conversations, she wasn’t Hancock.

Each time they kissed she shrugged off the image of him in the corner of her eyesight. Sometimes when Boone whispered her name when he was just waking up, she heard him. John Hancock of Goodneighbor. She left the poor sniper behind once they reached New Vegas.

Terrible didn’t sum up to how it felt to know someone who lost his wife to slavers, lost his heart a second time by a wandering vault dweller. He would come to forgive her for it, but it was hard. He’d been her comrade for quite some time. Going to California without him was awfully terrifying for someone who’d always traveled in a pack.

She met the infamous long wanderer when she rounded back by DC a second time. She was pretty cool, and her wife was gorgeous. They helped repair a wrecked Caravan of hers from raiders and mercs alike. Then she was back on her way home to Hancock.

She endorsed her purpose and perfected her medical and science skills. She got offers from all over, the institute once too, before Nate managed to knock them out of the picture. Then, when Doctor Amari reached out to her… Rowan felt home.

Saw it.

Lived it.

She saw the rugged streets with druggies leaning on allies looking as if they could eat you alive for some caps, the drunks passed out in the corner with a bottle in their hand…

She saw John Hancock.

Right there on the balcony his rugged palms skimming over the chipping wood of the old state house when he learned to overlook his proud town. His duster in the wind, then… The sparkle in his dark eyes when he spotted her coming up the street. She’d wanted that, and didn’t understand why everything and anything came back to him.

She was here to figure that out. She was twenty-two, she had so much life left to live. So many more beautiful lands, souls of every pastel laser beaming out from within… And right now, she wanted to live Goodneighbor. To be it. She’d set up shop for the drifters who couldn’t afford stationary care. She’d sleep on the grounds with them, survive with them. She downed her third brand of whiskey when the aroma of sex filled the air. Rowan tensed finding the musk of cigarettes, chems, and gunpowder. Hancock.

She signaled for two drinks with her fingers. She double fisted both ready to shovel it down when hands came to stop her. It was a gentle but firm hold on both of her wrists, just enough for Rowan to topple over off her stool. Thankfully, Hancock relinquished both in his hold when he sensed her body leaning.

“Think ya had enough?” He wore a smirk and her panties wore her pleasure. Her drunken body surged up at the warmth much too apparent in her abdomen.

“Who are you to tell the people to live, mayor?” Rowan giggled, pulling herself back up to the stool.

Hancock steadied her by gripping her upper arms an amused grin on his face. Oh, how dazzling was he, she mused. The hearts in her eyes began to show when she mushed into his hold. Her shit-eating grin was so viciously sweet it made Hancock burst out laughing from how adaptively adorable it was, and how hysterically ugly all at once too.

“You’re right, but I also look after the folks in this town.” He replied, setting one glass back by her but tipping the other back as his own. “Couldn't get it in?” Rowan guessed over the rim of her cup.

She looked so maliciously sedately the ghoul actually dribbled out whiskey from the holes in his nose. “What?” The ghoul seethed in shock between his teeth. His eyes were so big it looked like two massive plates on a thin tanned mouth opened in a little ‘O’.

“Guess I’m not wrong.” She judged, elbowing his arm with a drunken little-snarled giggle.

Hancock wanted to say something but felt utter shame that he was that predictable to her like he was to Fahrenheit. He wasn’t gonna admit that he couldn’t get hard, and the time he managed to, he said Rowan’s name instead. Only because he genuinely couldn’t remember this lady’s fuckin’ name to save his life.

“Long night.” He lied through his teeth. Hancock adjusted himself to appear more composed by standing straighter, fluffing his redcoat.

Rowan just breathed out a heavy sigh muttering, “I agree.” Though, she really had no reason for being so blue. Other than the fact she knew what a fucked Hancock looked like. She’d been there. Something in her was hurting by seeing him buddied up with a woman not like… Her. She was like him.

Her face remained partly human, but even without those features, she seemed so… Beautiful. Plus, Hancock didn’t have to worry about getting old with her. He wouldn’t have to worry about her getting wrinkled and aged. Something told her it was something senseless, something for fun they used to do…

That hurt even worse. Because like her, it’d been nothing. A fun time. Virginity was a… Religious, tolerance thing really. The idea to her was ridiculous until she realized just how holy the moment seemed between them. Sure, the bathroom could have caved in on them, but Hancock had shown her love.

Even if it wasn’t genuine, it was the love for him to be so deep, rattling up these hidden pearls stuck at the bottom of some old jar. He shook her whole world and taught her pleasure. He taught her how a woman should be touched, how to marvel when their navel contracts as they’re riding your dick… Love and affection. For him, she knew it was having a pretty girl fucking you senseless. For her, it was… Intimate. She savored every moment. The last time before she left, it’d been great…

Only she couldn’t remember it.

She woke up naked in his bed and she knew she made love to him again. It was hurting her. Especially remembering how he held her even after the music around them died. How he planted one on her as if she were all that mattered in the world, at that moment… It was just some way of using one another because they were all they ever had. Just like now. The town was dying out slowly, people thinning out if they weren’t knocked out cold. It remained her and him while Charlie cleaned up somewhat. Enough for it to appear decent.

Hancock took hold of her arm then muttering, “Why don’t we get out of here?” The sober side of her said no because, by the way, he whispered so intensely for her to feel every hot breath of air on her skin… It could only mean one thing. Their bodies were answering each other. She didn’t wanna fall for his coy, but the idea was so damn good it made her mouth water. Rowan made sure to keep commendable distance between them. The moment they rounded the corner Hancock yanked her into the alley before Bobbi’s place.

Rowan’s eyes popped wide when he forced her back on the wall. “You have any idea what you do to my head, Rowan?” Hancock asked, his voice a dangerous low growl. It made her hair on her neck stand on end and made her ladyhood slobber.

“No.” She confessed softly. “You’re thinking with your other head.”

Much to her surprise, he fisted her throat tipping her chin up with his thumb. She flinched back but all the while becoming a puddle in his grip and he knew it. He had the hands of her father and brother, rough, manly…

He had the rage of a thousand men in his eyes aimed all at her. “You walk your pretty little ass in my town.” He yanked her shorts down chuckling when he found bruises littered on her hips. He held her steady so she could only watch his face as his fingers explored her body.

“You’ve been a naughty little slut haven’t ya?” He purred, following the fading yellow ones following her hip bones. She felt so ashamed watching the genuine sadness flicker through his dark eyes. It was like he expected her not to let anyone but him touch her.

“My little saving grace needs to be blessed again.” He muttered, sliding a finger to run over her mound. She jumped when his fingers found her sensitive clit immediately rising at a touch of attention for him. His eyes met hers feeling along the slick lips just begging for him to touch her further.

Play with her, Use her…

Rowan whimpered then, and Hancock knew he had her fished in there. His hands were fisting into her ponytail and he whispered, “Say crack if you don’t feel comfortable.” He whispered to her. “Repeat it.”

“Crack.” She whispered.

He grinned and backed up enough for her to fall to her knees. He wound her ponytail around his fist. “Undo my pants and worship my cock.” He demanded.

Her eyes popping wide Rowan protested, “Someone will see us.”

The mayor just chuckled muttering, “Ya gonna tap out on me already?”

“I didn’t say it.”

“The word?”

Rowan narrowed her eyes stubbornly. “Yes.”

“Then get to it sister. Either way, I ain’t got nothin’ to hide.” He rose a bare eyebrow up at her, “Do you?”

She shook her head slowly keeping his eye contact as she undid his pants. She wasn’t surprised to find him fully erect already. She forgot how marred and bumpy it was, and how each one rubbed her just the right way. Thankfully, she had plenty of practice and savored him for a few. She kissed the tip of his cock raining down until she got down to her balls where she tickled the tip of her tongue against them.

It was little things like that, that set Hancock off. She realized smugly. The big scary ghoul liked being pet. She giggled to herself, slicking up the bottom of her tongue along the underside of his cock. His cock twitched in response and she swallowed his tip. Her lips puckered over it flicking those big doe eyes at him. Hancock wanted nothing more than to paint her innocent face something so damn masterful, it would make even the horniest of men gag.

He bucked into her throat slowly at first when she began sucking him up and down with wet obscene noises he couldn’t ever imagine coming from her. She stopped a moment her lips easing up on him slowly. She’s done this before. He realized.

It kind of pissed him off and fueled that rapid fucking then. He wanted her to feel how long he missed her, how much it got under his skin some other man had touched something and someone so sacred? She gagged a few times but never bothered to move. She took the punishment well.

He sucked in a sharp breath when his balls tightened. He had just enough to pull out and stripe her face then. Rowan gagged some in surprise ducking her head. “Not uh.” Hancock jerked her head back smiling so sweetly. “I wanna see how pretty you look in my cum…” He purred, using her discarded pants nearby to wipe himself clean. Her face was a feverish red, and she should feel so ashamed for letting him blatantly use her like that, but she didn’t. She’d wanted it.

He helped clean her face, he carried her chin like it was a fragile piece of cracked porcelain. His other hand softly rubbed his liquid pleasure off her face. When he had her wiped clean, he smiled. It was lucid and warm and it drenched her insides. She reciprocated muttering, “You okay?” The after sex high must have him stupid, she figured. To her surprise, he brought their lips together and she was powerless against him at that moment. All the running she’d done since eighteen had seemed so stupid.

Her world exploded from its golden robes welcoming in someone like him, touched by the outside. Everything she’d worked so hard to feel in four years summed up then. She wanted to slow down. All the romantic landscapes weren’t a goddamn thing compared to Hancock. To what this town was to her. To the times they traveled with Nate after they found her after she left Vault 81, and Hancock let her read to him because the outside was still so new to her. He didn’t laugh when she clung to books so hard because she had a wandering soul.

Had being the keyword.

When he pulled back she stared up seeing the galaxies in his eyes just like the first time she got up close enough to him. She could see everything and anything. She bit her lower lip reaching down to slide on her shorts despite the stain on the side of her cut off jeans. Hancock gripped her hand asking, “Where ya stayin’ tonight?”

She shrugged honestly. “I’m outta money. Was just gonna sleep in the back of my caravan like I usually do.”

The ghoul protested, “Absolutely not.” He led her back to the statehouse and she wanted to pull back because this terrified her. How it felt to be in his quarters after having his cock shoved down her throat.

It showed he cared at least a little bit enough to not leave her in her own filth. There was that, she guessed. He led her to a room unfamiliar to her downstairs. “This is one of the display rooms we turned into a guest room for, ya know… Nate, typically. Kinda his room.”

She snorted with laughter than with a smile so vivid it was like seeing a mushroom cloud of a mini nuke. “Is he gonna mind?”

“I pay the bills, so. There’s a working shower. I’ll be upstairs.” Hancock turned and she reached out in a small voice saying softly, “Stay.”

He tensed up not wanting to hear her say it because he didn’t wanna leave. “I-I mean.” Rowan added with a tiny smile, “Just so I can have someone to read to.”

Hancock struggled a moment fighting the devil and angel on his shoulders. It was hard when his favorite one was now sitting on the edge of the bed with the prettiest puppy dog eyes he’d ever seen.

“One condition,” Hancock argued after a long tense silence. “I wanna hear some stories of yours. It’s your time to tell me about ya life.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just smut

There was something about the idea of Hancock in golds was so enticing to Rowan.

She fished out some of her parcels from the back of her caravan after feeding her Brahmin, Steve. She kissed the side of each bull’s heads passing by them to slip into the state house. Fahrenheit looked so thrilled to see her for some reason when she rounded the corner staring into the mayor’s office. She was puffing jet, Rowan realized with a snort. Hancock bucked his chin at her in greeting.

“I brought you something from New Vegas.” She told him feeling giddy on her feet now.

There that childish glint was, that naive child still thrived under the careful creature who made friends with time. “Wassat?” Hancock slurred from where he lay strewn out on his desk.

Rowan giggled excitedly when she tossed the satchel on him. The ghoul gutted out a grunt when it hit his abdomen. Hancock sat up undoing it with as much quickness as a mole rat. It was worth the wait when the ghoul fingered the thick golden ropes gleaming and perfectly polished under the lights above.

Fahrenheit rolled off the couch tumbling to a graceful stance with as much as a heavyweight wrestler trying to recover from being tackled. “Those real?”

Rowan nodded excitedly spewing, “You got golds now, son!” She boasted in a pretend Boston accent that resembled a mouth full of cotton and three falsettos.

Silence flooded the room in an awkward penance for the traveler's outlandish outburst,

“Anyways,” Hancock drawled looping it around his neck. Rowan reached up to tuck it under his collar leaving it to dangle beneath his ruffles.

As Rowan said, there was something about the idea of Hancock in golds that really fucking turned her on. It fit that gleaming half smile that knocked ladies off their feet. Now he was the whole Daddy mafia leader kinda guy.

He had status before, but not it was solidified when he stood out on the balcony with his fancy new piece.

Her smile haunted his worst and best of nightmares. They had roots as deep as the trees, and she was gonna eat his heart out so innocently with those big eyes of hers and the casual way she’d suck his dick for fun.

Fahrenheit caught the gleam in his eyes, hers narrowed in a skeptical illusion of exactly what John was hoping of getting out of this little hopeful helper with the pretty body. “John, you sure this is a good idea?” It was a blunt statement, but that’s who she was. And Rowan needed to be here to hear it. “This little fuck buddy thing ya got goin’ on?”

The question was definitely unsolicited by the auburn-haired woman. She stuttered a snort her eyes widened extrateristically large compared to the size of her slender face. “I-It’s-” Rowan huffed out a chuckle, and her even trying to defend the situation made him ultimately curious. “Friends fuck sometimes.” She finished with an unconvincing laugh that definitely came out more strained. “They do. That’s all this is. Casual sleeping together.”

Right. That’s what they were, Hancock scoffed pretending like the actual confirmation didn’t actually tear him up on the inside. “See?” Darkness loomed in his tone, the anger easy for his bodyguard to read like an open bible verse. “Casual fuck buddies.” He spat, eyes narrowing at her for bringing this situation up now. Of all times. “Now would ya kindly get ya nose out of my business, Fahr?”

The whole time, Rowan felt more and more uncomfortable. That’s what this partnership was, right? One would go to the other, get off, but with a mutual kinship, they developed through sex. Blinking a few times to zero herself back into the present she looked to Fahrenheit. “Do you wanna get in on the action?” Her question had been so nonchalantly innocent the pissy redhead almost slapped her for it.

Hancock went green. “That’s not exactly somethin’ I wanna be a part of.”

“We can always involve Nate-”

Fahrenheit threw herself up scraping the couch feet back. She scowled at both of them with so much heat Hancock swore the rubber soles of his shoes welded him to the ground.

“...Well.” Rowan said with a quiet chuckle. “I was serious though.” She turned to Hancock stating, “I’ve always found Nate kind of attractive-”

He forced his lips on hers silencing her debate and she melted right into it like a blow dryer to butter. His hands drifted right up under her shirt removing it in one suede stroke of his palms along her bouncy breasts.

She backed up to kick the office door shut so no one could intrude. If Hancock was bothered by her words at all he did a damn good job of hiding it. “Stop talking.” He demanded, tangling the rugged force of his fingers into her hair attacking her exposed neck.

His tongue tasted the sweetness of her sweat, feeling the familiar ball moving over his lips when she swallowed. She responded by shrugging off his overcoat whispering in his ears, fingers pulling at his buttons, “Take it off.” She tore at his sash relishing the moment the familiar click of a buckle reached her ears. Feeling his rough thumb tips over her breasts he dove in to tease the perky buds.

“Oh!” Rowan wheezed, arching up her hips for Hancock to force these tight pants over her thick hips.

Seeing Hancock in nothing but golds did something to her. Through lidded eyes, she took in the smoke of lust written in his eyes when he looked at her. He gripped her chin purring to her lovingly, “Who’s my pretty girl?” He kissed her lips watching her eyes trying to drift from his but he jerked her chin to watch the chemical reaction in her.

“Me.” She mused. Her lips were swollen and wet from his tongue, never getting enough of her holy taste. Her eyes darkened when he rubbed his finger over the bundle of nerves between her lips. “No underwear, huh?” He shuddered. “Dirty. Even for you.”

“You act like I haven’t changed since you first fucked me.” Her voice was so deliciously smooth it did something to his cock. “No one’s ever been as good as you. No one has fucked me like they hated me, but couldn’t get enough of me.” She found his cock in the dim room circling her fist around it. Her breath on his neck had him going dizzy. He easily blamed it on the mentats in his system. She was tasting him, setting off goosebumps through him even though they weren’t easily seen as a normal person’s.

Her lips were silky soft, her hand so steady and smooth… “Shit, that’s it.” He graveled out when her thumb swept over his beading slit as she pumped him. She leaned on his chest, one of his free arms around her as the other busied fumbling with her plump backside.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna cum before we could get started,” Rowan said with a pout. “You didn’t even fuck me yet. I want you to cum in me.”

The words sounded light as air but had such a sinful intent, she’d kill him. “Fucking perfect.” He hissed through his teeth sweeping her up in his arms. He tossed her down on the bed not worried about if he hurt her or not yet.

“I’m gonna make you regret those words.” There was such an evil darkness, and Rowan only heard of this in books. This was nothing like touching herself to the erotic novels her brother tried hiding from her. It was Hancock with the rough touches, much like her brother’s, her father’s.

Yanking her up to her knees he rubbed his swollen tip over her wet folds. Her entranced puckered for him, and he was a goddamn fool to tell her no. “Bite the pillow, don’t want anyone hearing how much of a whore you are for someone as gross as me.” He spread her luscious ass cheeks open and dived in with one fluid stroke. Rowan’s body blossomed into a Dahlia in spring.

”Fuck yeah!” She wheezed squeezing a pillow to her chest, biting down on it to muffle the cry. It didn’t bother him people were outside the thin walls.

He knew Rowan liked her secrecy. She was gonna have a hard time keeping quiet. That was his point. He wanted to make sure others knew who made her cream in his ugly ruined hands. “Fuck, you’re tighter than I remembered.” He chuckled. He fisted her hair yanking her up in full against him.

“You’re bigger than I remembered.” She whispered. Her hot breath hit his chin leaving behind her erotic scent in the process. He anchored an arm around her waist the other going between her legs pinching and rolling her clit.

She couldn’t deal with this level of sexual pleasure, and Hancock was milking her body for everything in her. He was hammering into her harder and harder the clapping of sin sound like an applause now.

Fallen over she rolled her hips back on his rapid pounding length blushing at the wet sound emitting from herself. “S-slow down!” She keened under her breath, the rapid pants getting louder, grander. Just how he wanted them.

“Let them hear your pretty little purrs, kitten.” He hissed in her ear. “You’re my pretty little play toy. You like being used by me don’t you?” It was so degrading, but him bruising her, hurting her in such a good way…

“Yes.” She said softly.

“I don’t think I like how you said it.” He slid a hand following the hump in her rear. The flesh was so round and soft. He slapped it with as much power as he could and her rings around his cock tightened hard enough to milk his cum already.

“Fuck, yes.” She gasped, bowing under her curtain of hair. Hancock just smiled down at her.

“What can I do to make you scream deliciously?” He purred, feeling a finger around her other puckered entrance.

The doe-eyed woman froze whipping her head around to face him incredulously. “What are you doing?” She demanded.

“Remember our safe word?” He asked, his hips moving again. The pull of his rugged cock on her sensitive insides made her quiver and whimper.

“I remember.” She mused softly.

His fingers hadn’t let up on the petting in her anal cavity. Slowly he slid in a finger and she felt full for the first time in her life. She froze, not expecting the bolts of pleasure feeling his balls deep inside one wall, and the other being filled up too.

“What?” She gasped, breaking off in a fragile squeal when he went knuckle deep. He waited to see if she objected before he moved his cock and fingers in sync.

Something inside Rowan’s shy body became an extroverted she-devil rutting off on his shoulder. Her cries were wanton, sweat coating her body as he slammed into her. “Harder - f-fuck!” Her fingers were working her tight little asshole tender, and she couldn’t get enough. “Switch!” She gasped, yanking off his cock suddenly. The emptiness made him shiver.

As if it wasn’t obvious she declared, “Fuck me in the ass.” Arching her back up to her delicious ass was on display for him to take.

“You sure?” He gasped, almost cumming then with a vicious twitch of his dick in the air. Instead of answering her eyes became hooded when she pressed her tight puckered entrance on his slick waiting cock. Prelubed with her juices he pushed in past the tight rings inch by inch.

Rowan’s reached back to steady him by the waist feeling so filthy - so fucking dirty - so good. She was turning as dirty as the commonwealth, and fuck, it had her about to cum already. Hancock, on the other hand, couldn’t believe how nicely his cock fit between her pretty ass.

“Now fuck me.” She demanded, shoving back on his tight ball sack when she bottomed out.

He was careful before she begged, “Hurt me!” And he pounded back into her.

He rolled his hips reaching deeper and deeper into her guts with each slam. Her stomach ached and tightened when he nailed up into her with the strength of a two hundred pound man. “I’m cumming, John, yes!” Her voice was fucking glorious, slurred from all the stimulation. He curled two fingers into her wet entrance finding the button and - She froze with her ass clenched tightly over his cock causing him to halt his movements extensively.

“FUCK!” She shrieked as his fingers continued to milk her orgasm cutting off all senses inside of her. The rabid sound made his seed shoot into her ass causing a sting from some of the torn skin she greatly earned. “Give me all your dirty ghoul cum.” She groaned, rocking back on him.

The worst part was, his cock was still begging for more attention after that. “I don’t think I’m done yet.” Hancock chuckled, going to pull out.

It was as if Rowan had been thinking the same thing because she said, “Fuck me some more then.” She pulled off his cock with a slow pop turning on her back. She spread her legs exposing the slick wanting need pulsing between them. “This is yours for the taking, Hancock.” She explained, circling a fragile finger around her clit.

He dove in then his tongue helplessly prodding, licking, teeth tugging on her sensitive womanhood. She was his sweet deliverance, and he was soiling her like the Virgin Mary when she was chosen to carry God. Her thighs were tight vices around his head when she came, heels kicking. “Shit, John!” She was gasping, pushing at his head as he lapped his tongue back and forth in rapid flicks.

“Yes, my fuck, yes!” Her body convulsed from the devil he imprinted in her.

He fucked her with his tongue until she was absolutely unwilling to take more. She was putty in his arms when he pinned her arms down sitting her pretty ass right in his lap. “Take me.” Her russet eyes were lidded and lashed, his spit covering her swollen little lips.

“Fuck me harder.” He slid right back into her ass pinning her ass down when he jackhammered into her. She was gonna break, the muscles in her upper thighs straining. Her yells were ricocheting throughout the whole town. The scene was so hot she didn’t give any less of a fuck.

He was fucking her open in a whole new way, and she was enjoying every second of it. “Make me cum as you do.” She begged, snatch open for his fingers to play with. Maybe she had a fetish for Hancock touching her, but oh well. He felt around her clit circling it teasingly.

Her cries were breathless and damp with her body running ragged. He dug his fingers right into her digging into the pleasure spot that responded back so well. “Fuck me, fuck me.” She chanted.

Her shoulders rolled on the bed when her back began to arch. It was a drum roll to the holy spray of communion Hancock looked forward to.

“Come on, pretty.” He taunted, fingers moving faster. Her stomach sucked in, the head was thrown back.

“John, John, yeah!” She grabbed his wrist wiggling on them when she finally came with a clap. She almost didn’t feel it when John coated the muscles inside her ass with his cum for the second time tonight.

She was exhausted, and fuck, did she never look any more beautiful than she did now spend from the devilish power of his cock. He had to resist the urge to kiss her then, kiss everywhere on her. But this was casual. He slid down next to her tossing a towel her way.

“Clean up your mess.” He teased, despite the hole opening up where his heart should be.

Rowan looked as if she was gonna respond, but instead said, “Clean me off then.”

And just like that, they went for round three.


	11. Chapter 11

Hancock has to admit he knew the difference between a favorite sexual relationship, and falling hopelessly over heels for someone. And he was in love with Rowan. He realized it one night when Rowan stumbled into his bedroom one night when the ghoul found himself coming down from a violent high.

“Huh?” Hancock grumbled when she shook him. Instead of whispering a response Rowan’s plush lips met his thin ones in the dark in a rush of whiskey and lust. The usual between the two. He could distinguish the taste of regret on her mouth.

The way it dribbled onto his tongue when she silenced her ruckus moans of pleasure with it. He couldn’t get enough of this side of her. That’s the closest thing he’d get to be romantically intimate with her he realized. Her muscles were sucking like little vacuums when he thrust up into her, and he couldn’t get enough of her. It was just the perfect amount of stress on his needy cock too, and that was when he realized, everything was made to fit him like a glove.

The way the heels of her feet dug into that little crevice in his lower back, to how his hands fit into her hair giving him the perfect time to cradle the crown of her head as he fucked into her. The curtain of rugged pants mixed with curses and his name. The way she chanted his name, to the way he felt her tongue spell it into his skin when she tried to swallow her blissful cries of pleasure she attempted so hard to hide.

He was in love with Rowan Fairchild.

That just so happened to be the night she fell asleep on his chest too when he didn’t rush her out of his bed. He wanted to feel the clamminess of her skin creating mild suction against his rugged skin. To taste the sweat rolling off her temples blissfully drifting in the silver of the afterglow.

“Hey,” The ghoul nudged the head on his shoulder attempting to wake the auburn haired woman. “Ya gotta move there, Doe. Ya can’t just invade a man’s dick and his bed.” But the request went unheard.

Instead, well, her head rolled right on over to rest with her ear over his heart and he tensed. Her hair painted perfect hues of gold and blond on his otherwise shrunken body. She added light to his sunset creating the perfect rays of the sun. She felt light as a feather even with her full weight pressed on him. He felt along her cheeks with the back of a knuckle turning to rest his mouth right there in her hair taking in this moment.

He adjusted for her to get comfortable drawing an arm around her shoulder fitting her to where he could hold her. He’d wake up and could easily blame it on his sleep self, even though he had a feeling he couldn't get much to dreamin’ having Rowan in his sheets. He was truly fucked. Her head tucked right under his chin, palms resting on the heat of his chest. Her pale skin fluorescent on his scarred up burnt remains. He didn’t deserve to have this moment, there weren’t any strings to this.

He wanted so bad to get himself out of this position but the sadist in him won. He held her as he’d never get to again, and pretended for once, she could love him for more than he was actually worth. He remembered the untouched girl they rescued from the vault, how she morphed into an adulterous woman so full of sympathy, brains, adventure.

His Alias as Hancock helped him a lot, but John McDonough remained as feral under the shiny pretty red coat and smoke of jet. That he always strived to be loved and understood, and he had a feeling it was her. The only problem was, she had a soul made for leavin’. He couldn’t hold her down.

The following days when Rowan took off with Nate pulling some sort of mission for the railroad. Fahrenheit sat down with him finally expressing her wariness. “John.” She snapped her fingers before the mayor’s face who lay face down on his office floor. She toed him over anxiously checking for signs of breathing when the ghoul gagged.

“You dick, I thought you finally did it.” The fiery redhead scolded. She sat against his desk watching Hancock pull himself up with a soft moan. “Hit it a little too hard?” She guessed.

Chuckling some while scratching his chin, he nodded. “Guess so. Yeah.” He breathed out a sigh leaning back on the bookshelf tilting his head back. He flipped off his hat tossing it on the nearby stand. “This shit suck, Fahr.”

Her eyebrow arched up just as her mouth audibly popped open to ask the question - “I caught feelings.” He growled interjecting her. “I didn’t expect this to go anywhere. I thought I liked the way she fucked me.” He slurred, rubbing his palm down his face. “I love that freaky doe-eyed creature.”

“Where is she now?” She pressed on to her best friend gently. She spared him a sympathetic stare. “You’re not as heartless as you think. You’re a dumb motherfucker don’t get me wrong,” She finished with a laugh when John shot her heated daggers. “But heartless is one thing you’re not. I saw it the moment I landed eyes on her. Have you told her?”

The ghoul blanched throwing himself up to stare at her ghastly. “Are ya kiddin’? The girl wanted no attachments. She ain’t mine to keep.” He chuckled to himself settling with the idea that, well, he’d never get to have that moment with her again. He loved feeling her soft skin baby his when she turned over in her sleep. He wouldn’t get to feel her hair tickling his mouth when he tried to sleep no matter how much it pissed him off at that moment. “She’s got a beautiful heart…”

The black in his eyes sparkled with something wet. She thought he was crying before she saw the flickering flame in a candle he was focused on in the distance. “Fahr, she’s gonna be back in a few days. How do I cut this thing out without hurting her?” He asked like she could help any usefully than he was helping himself.

“Tell her how you feel, first of all, be a man.” She snapped, though affection dripped in her words. Being open about stuff as mushy as this wasn’t Fahrenheit’s pleasure, and he knew that. She had a rib cage of absolute steel no one could penetrate easily. Even if she could pretend this soft little ghoul didn’t weasel her way into her armory. “If she doesn’t reciprocate, so be it.” She shrugged. “That’s not your problem then. Just focus on picking up your manhood and get on with it.”

“But how?” He mused so openly.

Throwing a book at him she hissed, “Shut the fuck up.” Cracking open a beer from his mini fridge. She slid one over the floor to him. He looked up at it and sifted it without a second thought.

“Fahr?” The ghoul croaked.

The bodyguard turned her feathered eyes on him. “What?” She murmured.

He grinned mischievously, “I love ya.”

She gagged, “Eat shit.” and he laughed, and in silence with the hum of Diamond City radio in the background, they drank. Drank to their woes, to the drifters sleeping in the attic having an orgy, and to the sound of assimilating crime outside. Hancock could pretend he wasn’t hurtin’, just as much as Fahrenheit could admit she was jealous of the sort of thing him and Rowan had.

Hancock didn’t wanna end this, but he couldn’t hang himself up on someone - something - that didn’t really exist. Rowan wasn’t the same, he loved and hated it. Her mouth was expertise on a whole new level. She freaked him like no one else, turned him out like a bitch. He had the thug love most people daydream of while laying missionary waiting for their husband to stop. Rowan was down for all of it, and each time she freed herself from her top she had new scars and stories to tell.

He worshiped her midsection rising up from beneath her dripping mound kissing right under her cute little belly button earning the ear popping preen from how ticklish she was. He loved feeling her goose bumped skin following them like a map to her heart. He hated it most when he got lost in her lips. She was everything where he was nothing, and to him, it meant something. Everything. Now here he was awaiting Fahrenheit’s arrival with the infamous woman in her footsteps.

The moment news reached his ears Nate and she returned, the mayor pounced wanting to make it as cutthroat as possible. He wasn’t ready when she sprung through the double door with a golden aura around her enigma raining down heavenly warmth down on him. “Hi!” She greeted with a grin so oblivious to the daunting room made him feel even more like an asshole than he’d honestly admitted to experiencing.

Her arms were so welcoming the moment she threw them around his neck. He physically flinched with pain pinching his eyes like she’d bashed him upside the head with a board. Fahrenheit waited, watching him with her eyebrows knitting together, shoulder leaning on the doorway. He signaled her to leave, letting him deal with the pity puddle he creates for himself. “Rowan... “ He undid her arms placing them by her sides staring solemnly down at the floorboards past her.

He avoided those big doe-like eyes when she tapped him on the cheek in an attempt to warm his gaze up to hers again. “Look at me.” She pleaded with something so challenging he turned his head away with a wince to the corner of his mouth.

“This thing we got goin’, this… Fuckin’ thing.” He started, looking up at her his bare eyebrows creased in the middle. He resembled a kicked puppy dog which made this whole situation fifteen times worse. She cupped her fingers over his mouth the realization kicking in her sharp brain.

You “No.” She whispered, hushed. “You’re about to say something bad.” She shook her head begging in an octave higher, “Don’t.”

As much as he wanted to stop this, he knew he had to. “Rowan.” He shoved her hand away not wanting to feel the burn of her touch sealing itself in his skin again. “I gotta feelin’ we’re both expectin’ somethin’ different out of this.” He told her as bluntly as he could put it. “Why someone like you would wanna settle with me, I don’t understand. So, I’m not gonna let ya.”

Rowan’s expression blanked out quick enough to drop Hancock’s intuition on his knees that he couldn’t see what she was thinking at all. “You mean to tell me you know what’s good for me?” She asked in a tone so cooly monotoned it chilled him. “Me fucking you isn’t a good thing?”

“No, because I don’t settle down.” He explained. “I know what’s good for people that deserve better than me. And you, my dear…” He knuckled her chin, “You deserve better than some washed up junkie like me.”

“Who are you to tell me that?” She demands, the hurt flashing across her face. “Ain’t ya all for freedom of choice or whatever the fuck?”

“When it comes to people I care about,” He decided on his next words carefully. Adjusting where he sat on the corner of the desk the ghoul went on seeing as how she wasn’t tearing into him by now, “I know or I do what’s best for them. Rowan, you’re a beautiful girl - but there ain’t much to me in terms of love. I don’t settle down, and I’m more pussy hungry than I’d like to admit. Ya deserve someone who loves ya.”

Rowan sucked in a sharp breath whispering raggedly, “Did you not love me..?” Her laugh following the question was forced - a hook yanking out of the mouth of a fish raked out of the water. “What about when you held me at the Third Rail even when the song was over?” She was sure she felt - felt something between them. His eyes glittered like black gold when he looked in her eyes. Maybe she was still that young and naive girl she always had been.

Hancock shrugged as if dragging this out wasn’t killing him. “I do a lot of drugs, I’m always leanin’ on someone.” He pointed out with a quiet sigh. “I was afraid you’d think too much of this.”

“Too much?” She shrieked in disbelief. “We were just friends I thought. Then you come up to me accusing me of having feelings for you?”

“Well,” Hancock smirked at her. “Do you?”

That shut her up.

Her cheeks were a furious shade of pink. “You trying to tell me you really feel nothing for me?”

“Feelings and fucking are two very different things,” Hancock muttered swaying his boots back and forth over the raggedy splintered floors. “I like fucking you. But I’m thinkin’ I’m getting too attached, honestly.” He avoided Rowan’s poking gaze not wanting to answer to the questions she was always asking.

She moved in front of him anyways ignoring the spazzing electrical currents splitting through her veins shooting ice through her whole being. She held his face tilting it up, hoping to find whatever it was she was looking for. “I like you, Hancock.” She confessed with a sad smile. “A lot. Maybe, maybe it is the sex…” She recoiled her fingers around the ruffles in his shirt. The golden chain gleamed, and the dirty fantasy thrived in her head.

Curling her fingers around the chain now she pulled the ghoul close her bright eyes burning like emeralds with sudden lust. Hancock was always a bitch for that suggestive look that he matched with a crooked smile on his face. “Maybe it’s how dirty you make me feel…” She purred, dipping her head down to kiss along his jaw. Usually, he hated being touched, but each brush of her feather-soft lips lit him up like a flick of a match.

His hands found her hips bringing her close despite his mind screaming for him to get away. It was hard to tell her no when her lips were around his cock faster than she could tug his jeans down. Hancock gasped breaking off in a low feral growl that he found out made her skin bristle up in the way he liked. He felt it when his fingers curled into the back of her head feeling the hair standing up on the back of her neck.

She flashed her tongue brushing the pad of it along each side of his cock she could read. Her eyes never left his when her tongue curled around his swollen head sucking back up to the slit. She puckered her lips at the tip giving it a kiss all the while flicking her tongue along his weeping slit. Rowan was taking her time, tormenting him for hurting her fragile glass feelings. “That’s it, pretty.” He praised, touching her chin with his thumb when he cupped her chin.

He gripped it a moment just to shove his cock in deeper. He pinched her nose with that same hand holding the back of her head to choke her with his pulsing cock. Her muscles quivered when she gagged, a pretty sound when she wasn’t trying to pry away to gasp for breath. He released her the moment she gagged with a finality - the constricting rings almost made the ghoul cum then, but he withdrew from it.

Rowan should have never been so turned on by having a filthy creature’s cock in her mouth, but fuck did it start getting her off each time he degraded her with his pretty ruined cock. “Take your anger out on me.” She gasped, yanking off with a loud wet noise so filthy his member flashed up like lightning. Watching the spit roll down her chin when the thin string broke from her lips and his dick. She fisted his cock watching the ghoul fall apart under her soft little hand. “Take me.”

Her pants were off before she could even think to step out of it. Hancock knelt down to yank her pants from her ankles shoving her back against the edge of his desk. His palms felt up her boney hips tip of his tongue feeling between her slick folds.

She tasted always so sweet and pure, sometimes water, sometimes wine. He drank her pleasure, accepted his deliverance. His mouth moved up along her drenching lips nibbling at her sensitive clit. Rowan was gripping the back of his desk, calves burning as her muscles clenched with the role of an orgasm.

He squeezed her thighs over the mayor’s head, nails digging into his scalp. “Oh, fuck!” The auburn haired woman cried blissfully. She met his eyes as his hot wet tongue continued its assault on her tight dripping cunt endlessly spilling over his mouth. He was gonna milk her, use her up until it was as gone as his heart. It was hard to pull himself away from her liquid essence. “Finally.” She gasped in relief, gripping his face,

She slammed their frantic mouths together tasting herself on his tongue when he fucked her throat. Lifting a leg to his waist he slid the tip of his cock over her abused, aching need. Her eyes flashed like venom when she felt the familiar warm poke of his cock and-

“Yes!” She grabbed his shoulders when he slammed into her, back hitting the wall by the office door. His cock angled up into her as he fucked her relentlessly like she was nothing more than a plush fuck doll.

He fell in love with her tits bouncing with his rough-ins and outs of his thrusts. Her sounds were so loud - so pretty. “Say my name.” He demanded. He gripped her throat pushing into the hilt, rolling right into her pretty little cervix. Feeling his thick cock in the lower part of her belly she grunted breathlessly over his strong hand, “John!”

It sounded so pretty, her wet little cunt hugging his dick all nice, tight, wet rings. “Fuck, that’s it.” He urged, his thrusts coming shorter, faster, better. Rowan loved when he fucked her like a wild animal bucking into her until her breaths were grunts of a filthy animal he turned her into.

“Cum in me, fill me.” She begged.

Meeting the green fires in her eyes he ruined her with a spluttering so filthy and wet Rowan, for once, felt as disgusting as her motives were. “Feel your nasty seed?” She taunted, burying her tongue in his mouth with the filthiest soul-sucking kiss. “Give me more of it.” Hancock was her slave. By the second time of feeling her plump ass cheeks on his balls again, he forgot the whole point of meeting with her today.

He remembered when she fell asleep next to him for the second time in two weeks, and he realized, he’d never be free of her. The sheets were still covered when they moved to fuck on the bed, partly against it. She smiled tiredly over a jet inhaler. He comes to find out she savored moments using the drug. She lived in the afterglow, feeling her best, her highest. She fell asleep while Hancock went on reading the last few pages of Lord of the Flies. He didn’t move her.

He turned off the lamp, pulled her close, and kissed her cheek. If this is how they were gonna deal with this situation, so be it. No title made things easier. Loving her, it was gonna be what got him through the next few days, months… Even if nothing was ever said. As long as he got her there, that’d be enough. If she ended up loving someone else, he’d eat the gun. Dramatic? Yes. But the drugs never wiped her from his memory. When she loved someone else…

The ghoul puffed on the butt of his cigarette not bothering to let that ruin this moment. Her cheek was so soft on him, like a pillow, but one that drank and cursed and fucked. The one with the gypsy heart. He looked down at her feeling his fingers through her pretty golden red hair. It was so silky, wild, the color of what yule logs looked like when you first light the embers. Hancock loved it, loved having her. The next morning, he pushed his luck. She still remained - much to his joy.

Leaning over her sleeping body he pressed a kiss to her delicate face until she stirred. Her eyes smiled before her lips did, and Hancock realized, well… Fuck. He was gone for her.


	12. Chapter 12

“You’ve been letting her stay in my room?” Nate gasped the moment he dropped his duffle bag on the bed and woke a sleeping Rowan. Eyes still lidded from sleep she nuzzled the heels of her palms into them with a tired groan. Appearing sheepish, the mayor rubbed the back of his neck with a crooked apologetic smile. “Didn’t expect ya to stop in anytime soon.” He admitted. “My name is on this place ya know.”

Fahr rolled her eyes from where she leaned on the doorway. “Carving your name in the bathroom wall doesn’t exactly classify as the deed to this place.” She argued.

“Bullshit!” Hancock snapped, throwing his hat down at his feet. “I earned this place fair and square, my name is on it.”

As much Nate would love to join in on the banter, he was exhausted from all his travels. “Shut the fuck up.” He moaned. Using his foot he kicked the auburn-haired lady right on out of the bed. Rowan rolled undone like unraveling a caterpillar her plump little ass staring up at his face from under pretty lace panties, the rest of her hidden under the lump of blankets. Fuck, if he could blush - the reminder of being behind them not even two hours ago-

“Quit your starin’.” Nate hissed, throwing himself down on the bed. Rowan scattered up to her ruckus feet attempting to smack him with her armful of blankets. “Get out so I can sleep. Don’t know why she can’t just sleep in your bed, ya fuckin’...” Nate’s grumbled broke off into a snore within seconds leaving the three alone. Her toes tangled in the soft satin of the material sending her face first when she attempted to buck him out of his spot with a trivial kick. Hancock grabbed her by the waist ignoring the imprints her hips had permanently made from his fingers. Taking in a steady breath to calm his hardening cock, he balanced her.

Fahrenheit nodded over to his bedroom direction. “Just let the girl sleep in your bed, John. Sleep on the couch. Be a gentleman.” The ghoul’s eyes screwed over at her in tiny little black rice grains. It was when Rowan’s palm touched his arm from over the bunches of blankets pooling up and dripping down her pale skin he thought maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to lay next to her again. She wore one of his shirts that slipped off her shoulder from how large it was, and it was caught up in the band of her panties.

She was something unnaturally beautiful to stare at with her curvy feminine figure. Her hair was like rose gold against her pasty white complexion, she was so gorgeous… He stood at the foot of the steps watching her tired mind collaborate her to his bedroom. He was watching the pump muscles squeeze against her thighs when she reached the top, right before she turned to his room. His stomach flopped just taking at the moment that she fit in.

He was dead for her.

Slowly dying, and it was all for her. She was taking bits of him each time their eyes touched. When they kissed, more and more of his soul was captured in that glorious big heart of hers. The ghoul padded silently into the room shrugging off his sash and jacket hanging it up on a peg. Rowan was on the left side of the bed where she knew he slept, and that was fine to him. She was hugging his pillow to her head laying on her belly with a knee hiked up. It was the perfect position to surprise fuck her one day, he thought. But even now, this was the beauty for something, someone else… This was taking in the woman who made him feel.

Her hair touching his pillows like little golden fingers wrapped around his heart. She took and took and took, but gave out so much more than she could ever think of collecting. He talked so much about how he didn’t settle down, how much he couldn’t fall in love, yet here she was stealing his side of the bed and more. He tiptoed inside sliding the door in with a click. He heard the rustle of sheets and she spoke softly, “You comin’ to bed?” Like it wasn’t the biggest deal.

He knew she could hear the sharp yank of breath when he walked over to her. Fragments of his shell splintered apart like shatterings of eggshells. He was breaking through it, he realized, and it was all for those big doe eyes glowing in the dark. Two big neon Earthy eyes curling him in like claws on his face. She was sitting up when he crawled in next to her. She threw him back where her head could sit on his chest. “Ya really think cuddlin’ up to someone as filthy as I am a good idea?” Hancock lightly taunted her.

She loved hearing the vibrato in his chest when he chuckled just like he was doing now. Her cheeks pulled up when her lips smiled. “Feels good to me.” She admitted with a simple shrug. To that, Hancock didn’t question.

“Tell me about your parents.” He said idly after a few moments of silence. Her breathing was too uneven to be asleep, he knew that by now. Her cheek nuzzled deeper into his chest the arm across his middle tightening. “If it’s a sore subject…” He began with a deep frown. “Ya don’t gotta tell me.”

She shrugged. “Don’t remember too much of them.” She admitted lowly. “It’s been me and Alex, he was the only man like a dad to me…” As weird as it was, her brother had been the only male father role she knew of. “I just knew what he told me of them.” She grew silent a moment ignoring the weird tightening in her throat. She never gets emotional talking about them before. Being in solitude most of the time inside of the vault gave her plenty of time to talk to the voices in her head and debate about life and death. She came to a blissful acceptance of their passing.

“We didn’t really live in the vault before.” She told him after a moment. “I was too young to remember…” Her eyes narrowed in the dark as if she were trying to solve a Chinese puzzle in her head. “I try to sometimes. There are others I relive in dreams…”

“We can always try the memory den.” He mentioned quietly. “You’d have the full experience, completely paid for by me.” It was a bold and very intimate thing to offer, but for Hancock, he’d get to know every single nook and cranny of this woman finally. Relive her life with her, search her, probe her. Give him a reason to hold onto her when the sex died down. Give him something more to fall for.

“Would you really?” She bolted up as he fucked her with an electric current. It was enticing to feel the ends of her hair tickling his face with her warm mounds right up by his mouth. He tasted her chest pressing a longing kiss to the delicate skin.

“Of course.” He purred. “I wanna give ya somethin’ to remember me by. Why not see ya parents again, eh?”

Rowan should have known it was a mistake to agree, but here she was in a memory lounger. The mood of anxiety was set the moment she was suddenly a pearl on the tongue of a clam. “Just focus on the screen…” Purred the soothingly commanding tone of Doctor Amari. She was a woman with a stern face but age-old eyes that told stories of a past life far beyond what either could account for. Swallowing, Rowan watched the screen spin round - round - round… At some point, her eyes blurred into a haze of salt and pepper until she was floating.

Hancock was silent having been through this with Nate before. He sat on the stool straddling it, leaning his chin on his palm he balanced on his elbow and thigh. He was carefully watching the screen before him displaying a TV for him to watch. “We wanna go back to as early as you can manage,” Hancock instructed softly, his husky whiskey purr a soft hum in the atmosphere rocking Rowan into this calm interactive sleep.

Doctor Amari talked a moment but was silent flipping through her cognitive functions like looping through pieces of vinyl in a record player. “I found something - hold on.” There was a smile in her voice. “Here’s this one.”

Rowan was floating in a black abyss before she felt her chest jerk like every particle of her was being ripped and repaired together immensely when she regenerated to a room she herself didn’t recognize. She was in the corner of a shack with peeling paint on the walls. Her mother, a ginger-haired woman, curled around baby Rowan in her arms.

She was smiling, brushing her fingers along her cheeks cooing like a singing bird. “Row, Row…” She sang, kissing her little button knows. The front door broke open exposing a man in heavy battle armor. Something jolted inside of Hancock seeing the familiar Conrad Kellogg walking through.

“Shit.” Hancock hissed, rising over and dashing to gaze closely at the screen.

He smiled when he spotted Sarah. “Hi.” She breathed with a happy little smile. The mercenary knelt down kissing her so softly it made Hancock’s stomach flop over. The way he smiled down at her - it made him so terribly, absolutely sick… He was a normal man, despite the blood on his hands. Hancock was all for freedom of choice, just not when it ended in the bloodshed of mundane people. Kellogg kissed Rowan’s forehead adoringly, letting her suckle his nose when he kissed her little lips.

The scene faded, and Hancock felt like he could puke. “Was… That..?” Amari asked slowly.

Hancock nodded, a silent confirmation as to not let the rush of information to be too much for Rowan. “Go to the next one,” Hancock instructed, watching Rowan’s vitals with anxiety written all over his rugged being. He worried for her now, of what this child had to say. John knew all about Sarah’s endings, and he was under the impression that this child - died with her. Yet… That was Rowan, it had to be.

“I thought she died, didn’t she?” Amari pushed a little.

“I… Yeah.” Hancock mused softly. “What is this?”

Rowan felt her stomach clench recalling those piercing eyes from her travels all those years ago out of the vault. Conrad - her father - she’d met him before. He hadn’t recognized her. But she was a Fairchild… Wasn’t she? Her ponderings came to a protesting brake check into a new frame that buzzed in like watching a burning photo in reverse. It was chaos, explosions, gunfire. A baby’s wails among weeping of other mothers and friends. Sarah clenched the baby in the cradle slung across her chest booking it to the nearest settlement.

She was on borrowed time, the mercenaries were paying a debt against Conrad - and hear she was passing her child onto friends who owed her one. She broke through the Vault’s doors rushing out in a hushed whisper into the loudspeaker, “It’s Sarah, I need to deliver to the Fairchild family. It’s urgent. It’s the baby.” Sarah’s chest collapsed in a sob passing her to stare into those big eyes that marked a hole in everyone’s soul.

There was so much heart-wrenching shit yanking on her heart when she saw the thick tears in her mother’s eyes. She had them. Big, full of life, of love, wonder… “I love you, Rowan.” She whispered the moment the vault door wrenched open with a ring so strong it made the little baby shriek. It was an alarm alerting the trackers on her heels. The moment bodies broke through the bright welcoming lights Sarah rushed in thrusting the baby into Marie Fairchild’s arms.

“Take care of her,” Sarah begged. “Please.”

There was some sort of prior arrangement, Rowan noted sadly. Marie was a woman in her mid-forties who couldn’t bear children, or so she thought. The story Rowan was fed was Marie had her and Alex after thinking it was cancer both times or something. Their father ran off to marry some pretty French lady he met in the wastes somewhere, and she died of cancer for real at some point. It had been her and Alex since.

Alex wasn’t her blood brother. She had no ties to him. The relief and distraught pillage tore through her thin cloth of fabric she had for armor against moments like these. “I’d met my father!” She shrieked folding in on herself in the dark clouds of memories. “We need to pull her.” Hancock rasped suddenly more scared than he’d let on. “She’s gonna have an aneurysm.”

“It’ll do more harm than good. She has to draw out of it at her own safe speed-”

Alex’s hands were around her throat pinning her down on her bed back at the vault. He straddled her waist muffling his frustrations of the day on her. She’d talked back, and he’d punished her. “You stupid fucking worthless shit.” He spat, wrenching away hard enough to tear burns into the sides of her throat. She gagged and rolled the moment he tore off of her kicking her onto the floor. She was sobbing and choking and dying all at once. “That’s what you get for always making a mockery of the Fairchild name. Our parents would have hated you.” And left her alone.

Another scene from one of her final days in the vault. Hancock recognized it was from the one night she was caught with him in the library. What pissed him off was watching each pure hatred blow to her soft plush skin. He was watching her struggle, to cry, to fight. Something feral guided him back to the vault where he’d kill this fucker for hurting her this way. “Wake her.” He urged, recognizing the familiar signs of a seizure.

Rowan’s jaw went slack, arms numbing as her ankles twitched in minor convulsions. “Make your way back to common ground, Rowan.” He urged, kneeling down next to the pod by her head. His words vibrated through to her splitting through the rival reactions in her walls. Black and white and red, everything, suddenly she was color blind. “Find the common ground. Your safety.”

Him.

The scene on the screen changed and the familiar sounds of his laughter broke through the ghoul’s ears. Bolting to his feet he watched the memory play out. She was wearing nothing but his red coat and hat surprising him after a hard day out in the wastes with Nate that day. He lost it when her doe-like eyes went wide like a child’s when he snorted instead of moaned.

His lips on hers, her sleeping on his chest.

Something yanked at his heart watching her heart rate slow with each of his fingertips stroking along her skin. Soon the screen went blank. Rowan came to a few moments later with the familiar blanked outlook every recipient had in this experience. He raced over to kneel at her feet, Amari on one side of her head, the other with Irma. They stared down with something like sympathy seeing her most vulnerable moments exposed.

“Full warning, I feel I should add,” Amari mentioned softly. There was a silence. “Some patients like to run and-” Just like mentioning it popped the idea in her head, Rowan kicked Hancock over. She stumbled to her feet taking off faster than any of them could grab her. She was running from it all, from her, from him. She didn’t care the shirt she had on wasn’t hers, she didn’t care all she had were her bare hands to ward off predators, she’d make due.

She knew where she was, who she was now. The lie she had to endure. Building herself around a giant lie. Her father, she met him. Just years ago. Nate killed him - her father, fucking… Shit. The Auburn woman raced out the door tasting the freedom of the air. Swiping the remaining jet from her short pockets she puffed until everything around her was hugging her like warmth. She was feeling the hum of the universe around her.

She wasn’t Rowan, she wasn’t anyone, nothing. No one.

She ran past the ruins of super mutants grabbing a discard pool stick for a weapon. She refused to explain this insanity or face it. She wasn’t anyone, whoever she was, was a lie. “Rowan!” She heard Hancock’s voice calling back distantly.

No.

She needed to be alone.

She dashed to the left lunging herself onto ledges of rubble and derstroyed apartment complexes swinging her body like it didn’t weigh a thing. She slid her feet in a soft whisper to brace her stomach down on the cement landing from feet above in the destroyed building where she knew Hancock couldn’t find her. She poked her head up enough to see the two shadows growing.

Of course, Hancock had to bring Nate. She knew her father wasn’t a good man, and understood why Nate did it. But she wouldn’t know him - but her mother, what about her? Sarah? She had so many questions she demanded answered, but she’d be damned to partner up with them right now. “Rowan!” Hancock called out. “Runnin’ ain’t gonna solve shit. Face it like a woman!”

Smack!

“What he means,” Nate called out, “We’re here for you. It’s not safe for you to be on your own right now.” She shook her head shrugging herself into the corner listening to the footsteps fade to silence. She couldn’t have gone far, but she also knew neither men knew her agile grappling hook her body was now trained to be. She was more upset Hancock saw something she tried hiding. She tried hiding the colors in the black and white her life was. Then when he came in, her whole life took up a color.

One by one. Earning a new one with each story he told. Now his body worked a story in hers. Two authors creating a novel so many would beg to be in when they leave behind a sacred legacy. Right now, she wasn’t trusting them to be included on what she tried hiding. Hancock saw what she looked forward to most, what moments made her feel so fucking free of everyone and everything. She liked him, he knew it, he played in it.

He harped on it, just as much as she worked her sexual desires to create some sort of establishment between the two of them for her to keep feeling these things. She liked him far too much and the sex was always too good for her to turn away from. He saw her fragile little ego sobbing when her brother hit her too hard, degraded her. Exposed her for each one of her kinks.

Like how right now she found comfort in being used and wanted that more than anything. Sex was a drug sometimes how she learned to use it to build herself up or bring herself down from the high of life. Getting lost in a stranger’s bed, breath, mind. She felt bad for seeking someone other than Hancock, or maybe it was him she needed. To have him use her until her tears were dried, comfort her with roughness she was accustomed to. She planned to bombard him in his room again tonight, beg him to hurt her.

She knew there was no healthy way to deal with this. She slid down from her hiding spot scraping her knees on the way down. She landed on her feet like a kitten gliding all the way through to the Third Rail. Why? That’s where her woes were taking her. It was summoning the ugly demon in her to indulge in drinks, suck in the souls of strangers, taste their lies and truth when their tongues touch your throat.

Rowan swung in thankfully avoiding the mayor if he was anywhere near. Fahrenheit would, sure enough, to report it to the ghoul she spotted her by the bar. Fuck her, Rowan laughed. She had enough time to shovel down drinks like she was gonna party her life away tonight in only three hours or less. “The best ya got, Chuck,” Rowan said leaning with her elbows on the table. Flashing her charming smile she squeaked, “Put it on the mayor’s tab.”

She kissed his optic the moment he threw her the best bottle of bourbon costing around a few couple caps. She broke the bottle tipping it back until the alcohol numbed her throat coating her insides in its poison. Her insides were lucid and warm like hot chocolate on a winter day. She slumped back in a chair in a VIP room peering over at the young mercenary sitting across the room with pretty brown eyes.

She put on her best smile whispering to him, “Ya gonna keep starin’ at me? Or ya gonna make a move?”

“Ain’t yeah with the mayor?” MacCready drawled, though the interest flashing in his eyes said he didn’t care for the moment. However, he knew how scary the ghoul got over his possessions, and he wasn’t willing to get in the middle of that one.

“We ain’t nothin’ but friends.” She said, even though the lie was heavy on her tongue.

“You’re pretty, and your corpse would be even more stunning.” He said. “I, on the other hand, would not. So I’m not getting involved in whatever lover spat you guys have going on. Count me out.”

Groaning, Rowan swallowed the remaining of the alcohol feeling her whole world rushing around her at once. Taking one step off the couch she fell face first greeting the floor with her crushed nose. She was so numb she didn’t feel the rushing of blood spilling down her lips and coloring her teeth when she attempted to smile. A grizzly sight to come on when you were someone like Fahrenheit who wasn’t good at being a caregiver. However, she did have orders she had to follow too.

Hancock instructed her to keep Rowan safe if she swung back around after skimping off. Like a bee with no honey, Rowan buzzed to all the familiar routes her brain tugged her to just because it was what made her feel safe. Even if it wasn’t a good choice in the end. And here the girl was, busting her own face open and pathetically crying in a drunken heap. Cool. “Come on.” Taking a piece of cloth from her shirt she covered her with the musky perfume of pure butch lesbian and Gunsmoke.

All she could smell was the iron of blood, and that was fine for Rowan. The bodyguard all but carried the girl on her hips since Rowan was far too drunk to even think of walking a straight step. She didn’t protest, probably having no recollection of where the fuck the two were hiding off to in the state house. Finding the spiral of stairs the auburn-haired girl shrieked like a parrot alerting some of the settlers asleep around them.

Just like babysitting a fucking child. “Shut up!” She hissed, wrestling the woman up the stairs. The blood was soaking through the fabric of the torn shirt, soaking over Rowan’s nimble fingers. Fahrenheit sat her on the toilet seat inside of Hancock’s bathroom. She ran the sink waiting for the purifier to turn on to filter the rads out.

“I’m bleeding!” Rowan panicked, gagging.

Fahrenheit whipped around hearing the belch hissing slowly, “Don’t you vomit on me too. I swear to fuck-” Rowan shoved the guard into the tub throwing her out of the way so she could puke and free bleed - and panic over the flesh and acid combo stench - now she was sobbing and coughing, and bleeding. Fahrenheit was seconds from strangling the bitch, half of her now soaked to the bone thanks to this little Rowan shit.

She ground her teeth together until she rolled forward. Her cheek in the flesh covering the toilet ring from her nose that was clotting and seeping out at this point. A good sign. “Sorry about this…” The redhead grumbled when she fisted a pinch of toilet paper tugging the large blobs of blood from her cavity. She expected the woman to shriek at the sensation. Her eyes just twitched when the slob of goo fell into the toilet with a heavy clap.

This girl was really out of shape, she realized. Like alcohol poisoning kind of bad. Sucking in on the inside of her cheek the bodyguard turned to lay the lady on her stomach, head in her lap. “If you gotta puke,” She began with uncertainty nudging in on the edge of her words. “Just do it. We gotta watch out for the family. And you’re John’s piece, so I gotta watch you too.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know one day I'll leave my hair one color. And in my defense, it definitely isn't today. So while my hair processes and my blunt gets rolled, you guys enjoy this hectic masterpiece I'm somehow managing to whip up.

She lay awake memorizing all the patterns in the ceiling above her head. Rowan stayed out of the way of the state house the moment she came to the following afternoon of wasting herself and killing her liver. The mayor was back in town - she heard him looking for her. She paid Marowski greatly to send him away on her behalf. There was a song playing in the soft hum of fan blades above her issuing her some sort of comfort when they silence was ringing as loud as her emotions. She was aware of life passing her by outside, but she couldn’t bring herself to roll out of bed.

There came a knock to her door hours later, or maybe it was minutes, she was high and had no idea of what was going on in this dim room of hers. “Housekeeping,” Nate muttered through the blockade of the door. Setting her jet inhaler aside she merely planted her feet firmly on the ground the only stable plain of reality she knew she could hold onto.

“What?” Rowan called out, throat hoarse from hacking up the smoke vaped into her lungs. She coughed up phlegm, ducking her head when the door creaked open.

Thankfully, he was alone. Rowan wasn’t gonna pretend she didn’t physically deflate when she didn’t catch the redcoat there hovering behind his shoulder. She didn’t meet those dark eyes that became a virtue and sin she wanted to run from yet indulge herself in. To drink in his essence as easy as he breathed in cigarette smoke. Nate took notice when her hazed eyes stared behind him too long.

He was staring into the eyes of a woman tumultuous broken of a life that wasn’t hers. Pictures were worth a thousand words, but all that could come to his was… Hurt. Rowan was hurting. He shut the door behind him crossing the way to collect her up in his arms before she could crumble into pieces at her own feet. He knew what it was like to have news, and the fact she hugged onto him instead of fighting him off, it warmed him. He killed her father, she lived through the trauma that added up in her adulthood.

Rowan didn’t understand. She never ever could. She did so much good, and she comes back to Goodneighbor to fall into the same pit she ran away from. Maybe it was Hancock doing this to her. Dragging her down by her ankles all because she liked the way his breath felt on her cheek when she fell asleep next to him after a long night. She liked the way it felt to be held and worshipped by him alone, sex was something that was theirs, a moment with only the two of them.

She had a little home built in her dreams.

“He saw what I tried hiding.” She whispered into the sole survivor’s chest. The scruff of his five o’clock shadow brushed on her scalp when he tucked her under his chin. “Hancock saw intimate parts of me, I thought I trusted him to see it, but…” Her words faded, her eyes going big and glassy when the drugs hit her like a train. She even began tipping back in his arms and he gripped hold of her as to keep her steady.

“What all have you taken?” He asked, searching around her. He took in the clothes splayed out on the ground mixed with empty and full inhalers littering around like plastic water bottles. “Nevermind.” He sighed. He rested the woman on his chest where she fit, and she pretended she was in a better place. Rowan was away from the black pit opening up under her feet swallowing her up in defeat.

Hancock hated himself, that was always a give in.

He hated himself more right now because some other broad was in his bed, and he was hoping to remember her name when she left his bedroom. He leaned outside of the statehouse taking in the scenery of outside, of home. Of the stars that he secretly let guide him to Rowan all those years ago. He was stupid enough to think the two of them held hope, that something could become of this. He pretended not to wish the woman well when she walked out of the big doors still tucking in her shirt.

Rowan was standing a few feet away watching as he simply hummed a reply of goodbye over his cigarette he tongued on the corner of his mouth. His dark eyes assessed her, and she pretended she didn’t see the woman fixing herself with a wince she knew all too well. She stumbled like her insides were yanked out. She couldn’t help the little narrow of her eyes despite that. Hancock’s lips quirked into a crooked smirk, just out of habit.

He hated seeing her hurting, he hated being a man of testosterone and substance that swallowed him up. Clouded his judgment. “Hey, stranger.” Hancock greeted with a smile as twisted as his insides. She pretended not to blush to see his bright teeth splitting across his thin lips.

“Hi.” Rowan’s voice had lead weights in it, her shoulders sagging with an unseen weight on her shoulders. The ghoul would’ve offered her some chems - but she looked like a goddamn mess.

Her big doe eyes were heavily shadowed under them like someone tried poking her little eyeball out. “You look like shit.” He snorted. He pushed his shoulders up off the old house closing the distance between them. Her foot brushed back on the wet pavement from the former storm still threatening to stammer down like tears he saw in her eyes. He cupped the side of her face in a silent form of comfort because his words sucked. He didn’t know how far, how much, he could push with her right now.

Her emotions were slowing, she missed the touch of warmth he spread through her. However, now was not the time. Then she remembered the woman who branched out of his room - and she pulled away. “Thanks, coming from someone like you, I must look a mess,” Rowan said. She didn’t meet his eyes but looked past him at the door.

Hancock followed her stare. “Ya thinkin’ of leavin’?”

“That’s all I know. You can’t be mad because you do it too.” Rowan pressed on before he could throw a dig at her. She was right. Didn’t stop him from feeling hurt by it though.

“I was worried about you,” Hancock confessed. “What I saw… That couldn’t have been easy-”

Rowan wanted to strike him then. “What you saw,” She bickered throwing a finger in his face. “You keep fucking silent about.” She demanded. “I failed everything - everyone. This life I hoped to live was never fucking mine.” Tears threatened to burn in her dry eyes. “And I came back here - hoping for something.” She continued slowly. “But that… That something.” She stared him right in the eyes, “It was lost years ago. I can’t go hoping to heal in a place that broke me.”

“Come inside,” Hancock growled at her.

She only obeyed because she knew she was picking at a poorly stitched wound in his armor.

“If you’re gonna leave,” Hancock snorted aggressively. “I can’t stop ya, doe. That’s your right, but I think ya need to listen to me.” He took her by the hand yanking her inside the downstairs bedroom belonging to Nate. “You can go, you can run, but you can’t outrun that person you were before, during, and after this fiasco.” He shouted, grabbing her by the arms.

He digs his fingertips into her arms wondering when the fuck he became so involved in the needs of someone else. He couldn’t even taste the rotten mouth of the stranger when Rowan was sitting right there in front of him. To be touching and grabbing her, feeling her soft plush arms against his ruined flesh… “Fuck.” Hancock cursed, releasing her gruffly. The auburn haired woman watched as he paced, running his hands over his hat, back and forth.

“If you leave.” His voice was low and husky, cautious. “Just remember who you are. That person you’ve always been. The one who got excited by books, by adventures…” His eyes met hers, and she felt her heart stop. There was something so meaningfully wet in his eyes it summed her up to nothing. Absolutely nothing. “Do what ya can to remember me. Because I ain’t forgettin’ ya.”

The words stumped her. “Forget me? What’s there to even remember besides some useless words I quote from books, most of my shit isn’t mine.” She whined in disbelief. “Everything I experienced burnt in the flames of freedom. I’m as easily forgettable as a pen you find in the streets. You don’t even remember unless someone jolts your memory.”

Hancock threw her down on the bed biting on her lip hard enough to puncture it when he kissed her. She could never forget this time, a time she can regret. She mewled back up grabbing at his clothes feeling the fire splitting between the two of them. He was gonna show her, show her what she did to him. He wanted to be there when her books and pages were torn to be burned at the stake. He pulled back with a violent wet pop, Rowan gasping for breath.

She kept her fingers curled around the back of her neck when she sobbed again. Sobbed, because she didn’t deserve this. To deserve to love a man who isn't hers, who never once belonged to her. She wanted to love him when his pages came undone in the timeline of his story full of adventure, a life she yearned for. To know of the rage and passion of lovers from a romance novel. She took it back, she didn’t want it anymore.

She wanted Hancock so much it hurt, everything caved in when she tried to breathe. “I like it when you hold me too much.” She whimpered into his neck. “To find time in a day to hog it, any second, any minute…” She shook her head. “I’m nothing special. You’ve seen the miserable piece of myself I am. Why I like being hurt too much. Just a little silly character living in a horribly written book with no common ending…”

He could relate, he wanted to keep her, but he loved her enough to let her go if she needed. Then he was reminded the last time he let her go, how he suffered from a pride damaged and a heart ripped apart by her healing hands. Now, her wet tears drenching the collar of his shirt he didn’t wanna let her go, not for a second time. “I like havin’ ya with me. I don’t know a good thing when I have it, exactly.” Hancock began slowly. “But I wanna take ya in my arms, take ya slow…” He nudged his thin lips against her scalp. “Because ya never got that tender lovin’ at home, we satisfy each other's needs and wants…”

He pulled back to cup her chin breathing in the sorrow drenching off her clammy skin. “Oh, my little doe-eyed beauty,” He crooned, golds glistening when he pressed their lips together again. “I like seein’ ya smile, but I can’t be selfish and ask ya to settle with someone like me.” The ghoul’s eyes grew sad in that way they did when she slipped out of his bed every morning. She was seeing the fractured person in her reflection but mirrored in Hancock now.

“You think I’d be settling if I told you I’ve been madly in love with you?” Rowan mused, curling her fingers around his neck to move him down against her flamboyant body. His fingers found their way to her curves lifting her pants down past her ankles. “You don’t want me.” Hancock breathed, helping her to shrug off the sleeves of his coat. Rowan’s fingers undid the top buttons on his ruffles while the ghoul fumbled with the bottom. Once the shirt was gone the ghoul ravaged her lips like they were a French delicacy.

He tasted her, the salty tears dripping from her eyes even as he touched her right in the little places that smote her body to some unheavenly sin in his head. Hancock wiggled his pants to the ground tugging Rowan’s shorts down to her ankles. He adjusted her legs up in the air propping himself on his knees behind her. There was a sort of passionate thrill in their fast, rough movements.

He met those eyes when he thrust into her lush wet muscles. “Fuck!” Rowan growled through her teeth gripping the pillows above her. Why did it always end like this? She mildly wondered as Hancock began the slow smooth ins and outs of cervix deep thrusts. Biting on her lower lip the little vault wanderer mewled in anticipation with the way her body reacted to the rough cock massaging her insides like a professional instrument of a sort. “I want you,” Rowan whispered, inching her hips down to meet his heavy ball sack. She rolled down to capture every inch of him while meeting those big black eyes with burning emeralds of hellfire. The savage way she eyeballed him while he fucked in and out of her, it tore up his brain. Then, he recalled, she was responding to their earlier words.

Did she really think this through? “My dick is in you, so it doesn’t count,” He grunted. He shoved her knees closer to her head powering his thrusts faster in the way their skin made the most disgusting wet clap. Rowan seized up a moment feeling her stomach give out the moment he began to beat her pussy up like a punching bag. “Fuck, don’t stop!” She begged with an animalistic whine.

She meant it. “Don’t stop touching me like this, light me up. I’m yours.” The ghoul ripped the clothing from her ankles to fit himself right between her pretty legs instead, hovering over her body when he mounted her from the front. He wanted to see into her eyes when she spoke. “Say it again.” He demanded, pinning her arms above her, constricting her. Exposing her. Rowan wanted to scream the moment he angled his hips up in that angle.

Instead, she dug her heels into his lower back pressing him that much deeper when his movements became rippling stabs, short, hard, and quick. “Fuck me, I’m yours! D-don’t-” She tore off in a high pitch moan that he knew the whole town was hearing. She was cumming over and over and over on his thick rod, and he was gonna take full advantage of this. Hancock smirked slowing his movements enough in a way to not overwhelm her too much yet, he wasn’t done.

His hands felt up her clothed shirt removing the last article of clothing covering her perky breasts. She laughed a little, catching the mayor off guard. “What?” He purred, palming her tender chest, thumbs teasing her hard little nipples. “You get a handful, right?” The mayor’s face screwed up in confusion before he erupted in laughter, leaning down to nip at her little tits. “They’re just fine, sunshine.” Dragging his teeth along the length of her nipples feeling her back stuttering into an arch.

He began to move inside her again, his fingers rubbing her soiled clit in slow little circles. “You’re my little Doe then, huh?” He muffled, sucking her soft little nipples. Her fingers found his head cradling him as she rocked back down on his hard cock.

“Yours.” She panted, curling her fingers under his chin to kiss him solidly in confirmation. “You’re mine.” She muffled into it. Hancock could only moan in response when she slammed her hips down on his cock.

She bounced on his lap for a moment while the ghoul drifted off in spasms from his high of sex with Rowan. He thought she killed him when he felt his cock unloading from his tight balls. “Shit!” The mayor cursed under his breath fingers tangling in the sheets on either side of the red-haired lady. Feeling the warmth pooling between her legs almost got her excited again. “Give it to me, Mr. Mayor... “ Rowan purred. “You nasty little fucker.”

How did someone as sweet as Rowan have this other dark side? It’s always the quiet ones you suspect, he remembered. He fell flat on her chest his softening cock dripping out of her like water the moment he gave in. Rowan whimpered pitifully waiting for her orgasms to die down enough for her to enjoy this moment. And the fact she totally spilled her guts out… While he had systematically been inside of them. Yikes.

Still, they lay there together under the ripped seams of the veil they finally broke free from. “So, did ya really mean what ya said about bein’ in love, or was that the sex talkin’?” Hancock asked while leaning over the bed for the smokes in his coat pocket. Rowan waited until he was sitting back upright laying down next to her. She naturally assumed the position with her head on his chest while he smoked.

“I’ve had a fancy for you since I first laid my eyes on you,” Rowan confessed, listening to the rapid thrum of his heartbeat. It was amazing to see how neutral his face remained despite the dead giveaway of nerves making his heart race like horses. “I ran away from it, but… You. It was always you. I finally had an itch to come home just… assuming that it wasn’t something more than just zeitgeist or something. I knew from the moment we were alone…” She brushed her hair behind her ear.

“I don’t know. I didn’t know what it was, but all I know is, I never wanted it to end at all. I don’t deserve a lot of the things I have, and I don’t deserve someone to even think of me like that, but… I can’t help but wanting you, and I can’t run from it. I never wanted you to see me-”

“Seeing you for who and what you are? Sometimes, that’s a nasty thing.” Hancock overrode her defensively. “But c’mon, Row,” He looked down at her puffing smoke from the corner of his mouth with the way he did. She was convinced it was part of his mating call. “I got to see a part of you-you trusted me with. To see that ya think of me genuinely when you need a place to go, it’s beautiful.”

He tapped out the ash of his cigarette drawing it in with a long slow sigh. “But to see ya havin’ to go through what ya did in the vault… You grew out of that little box he tried to keep you in. I ain’t one to think of ya any less just because some low life fuck like him didn’t know a good little gem you are.” Inhaling slowly he looked away to finish off the rest of the butt. “I ain’t one to know about love like… Like romance. I never found someone to solve that part of me, but. Ya, come close.”

He looked back down at her. “I love ya like I love Nate and Fahr like I love this little town and its people, the drugs… I can’t seem to think of why I favor you above all of that. It’s alien, but… I ain’t so scared, because I don’t wanna run from ya. I wanna run to ya.” Rowan shifted some, leaning up on her elbow. She smiled at him saying, “This doesn’t have to go anywhere… With this information, if it makes you uncomfortable.” She offered daringly.

Hancock was silent a moment debating it. “We can be just us.” He decided. “Whatever this weird thing is. We savor it, take it, run with it. Experience the thrill ride this is gonna take us on.” At that, Rowan’s grin was so completely irresistible. Her sobering little grin reminded him that he himself is a simple man at heart. He didn’t need much of anything to keep him happy. Not even this fancy gold chain around his neck. But, he’d damn sure take the dame going down on him right now.

Hancock and Rowan. They were a team, but he’d be damned to give into love and become its bitch right away.

Hancock had been so unsteady for so goddamn long, and there was this pretty little woman at his side in the Third Rail tonight. The both of them were arm in arm the moment they entered the every partying atmosphere. Rowan’s bright red hair piled up at the top of her head exposing those big laser eyes of hers onto the world in full view. Hancock was still trying to help her fix the part of her dress still stuck in her panties from their quick fuck back in HQ.

There were whispers around them with bets made every which way. Fahrenheit was dressed down for herself. Usually padded up in some scary looking armor, she traded it for a sleeker leather apparel over her t-shirt and jeans. She didn’t need to ask about the flushed look in Rowan’s skin to know what held them back some. Everyone knew, but no one spoke. Rowan was Hancock’s arm candy, the first exclusive one in years. Only time would tell with a few more gossip selections in the papers when the two would fall out for good.

For now, everyone threw playful jabs watching them like some sacred deities. Hancock was enjoying the spotlight because he knew he had the finest dame here, at his side. Even Magnolia had taken a liking, and Chuck couldn’t dare hide the peeking little optic cruising around to eye the plump ass in her little black dress. Hancock looped a possessive arm around her waist, hand resting right there gripping the plush skin causing her to suck in a sharp breath through her nose.

He gave her a side eye as he continued speaking as if he wasn’t full on groping her for someone to catch them. It was so hard for him to fight the feelings she installed in him. She was such an easy kind of beauty. She broke away just to buy some jet off of one of the settlers, and she sunk into the blob of Goodneighbor a free-spirited woman she turned into. Hancock fell in love with the tie-dye hippie love child who ran amuck with the most peaceful of factions in the great old’ USA.

He loved her hazy eyes when she turned them bedroom eyes on him. His cock got rock solid when she smiled that dazed crooked smile so lazily painted on her pretty little face. Her teeth caught the corner of her lip. The ghoul had to avert his eyes from her to focus Nate going on about some sort of raider group he’s been hunting down. It was another awesome story full of gore, quotable lines, and a horizon as big as the coast.

Nothing could quench the ghoul’s attention from the beautiful woman laughing - laughing at what, it didn’t matter. It lit up his whole goddamn world to hear that sound he hadn’t heard too often from her. He fell in love each time she kept hitting it until she was just a dumb smiling mess. Swooping over to her he leaned over her in the chair she sat in. It took her a few seconds to register where this big shadow over her came from. “John!” She greeted.

The smile was so genuinely innocent he couldn’t help himself from stealing a kiss from her. He didn’t care who saw and spoke, who whispered what, to whoever’s mama. There was nothing better than this gorgeous woman staining his lips with her jet fueled happiness. “Wassat for?” Rowan giggled, cupping his cheek.

He just shook his head, “You, you hot little mess.” And he kissed her, again and again, getting drunk off her lips alone.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t thank you guys enough for the support. Every kudos, comment, and view means a lot to me. I’ll get down on myself because I really won’t think it’s good enough but then a lot of you pour out your hearts about my writing style it’s just. It’s a lot and I never ever tire of hearing people who are passionate about the same things as I am. Enjoy this new chapter guys!!

Hancock was aggressively high. Like, the top half of his body was goo sliding down the fabric of the scratchy couch kind of stoned. His feet were iron weights and he couldn’t move.

The world around him erupted into blissful pastel colors comforting him in shapes he recognized. He saw the outline of Rowan, nude. He could tell because he memorized her naked shadow. The feminine curves that swung with each dainty step she took towards him.

“You’re like…” His eyes narrowed in thought.

She knelt before him, cutting his train of thought out.

“Well, hello.” He slurred. He heard her sweet little chuckle that lit up his whole wide world and he couldn’t fight that sweet smile oozing across his dripping face. His eyes were dripping to the floor like melting ice…

His whole world sparked up into solid shapes when Rowan’s sweet little lips somehow found the shape of his and kissed him so tenderly. The jet was not the most potent thing in his system. Mixed with her zealous tongue and envious lips, Hancock was so fucking gone he forgot to breathe.

He only came to remember when she retreated because he was now laying half on the floor, feet upright in the air against the cushions. “John!” She gasped in a giggle, her eyebrows tugging together in the middle in concern.

He inhaled sharply until he was coughing. The woman panicked a moment wrenching up the closest thing - whiskey of all things - washing it down his throat. Some spilled from the holes in his face when he choked gratefully on the brassy liquor. Rowan knelt next to him holding his face upside down from where she knelt by his head. “Are you okay?” She breathed, following the risen curves of his face.

Hancock smirked that crooked smirk stating proudly, “Ya took my breath away, kid.” And laughed.

Rowan scowled at him despite the blush running up her neck exposed by the t-shirt she wore. He liked watching the color flood her face… He realized. His eyes were on the pair of breasts hovering nearby. Hooking a finger into her shirt he popped on little nipple into his mouth once it was freed.

Rowan gasped falling over him some. “Damn it, John.” She grunted out in surprise. Her legs clenched behind his head when his tongue tickled the very tip of the nerves.

He had a damn good idea then. He yanked back with a little mewl cooing, “While ya down there…” Hooking his arms around her legs he yanked her so she was straddling his face. She squealed when the room rushed around her head and she suddenly faced to crotch with the ghoul.

“If you wanted me to suck your dick, you just had to ask.” She panted, turning to look back at him. He was busying getting her shorts undone. He curled his fingers under the waistband curling them around her ankles.

“Ya see, Rowan,” The ghoul began, not wasting time in lavishing the thick tender thighs of his lover. He purposely avoided her slick curves between her legs begging for his attention now. “I don’t care whether or not my rocks get off…” He kissed along the very inside of her thigh closest to her mound. His tongue darted out tasting the freshly shaven skin, and he chuckled some. “As much as it is me getting to taste this pretty pussy again.”

The words had goosebumps raining upon her skin. She had a serious issue to bring up to him, but with him being so high, she knew it wasn’t any good to try. They ended up fucking some way or another like always. She didn’t mind right now, not when his mouth was tearing her apart like it was now.

There was something about being eaten out in general that turned her on. Having the pleasure of blowing Hancock in the process, another one of her favorite activities, things couldn’t be any better.

Her mouth was busy around his cock, her autopilot came on when his tongue tickled her clit in that beautiful little lap of his over the very tip of the quivering nerves. She swallowed him down when she came to her body thrashing, and she gagged despite the glorious sound it etched out of John’s mouth. She pulled off with a pop, going to dive back down brushing her lower lip on his balls when he hooked his arms around her waist yanking her down on his warm waiting mouth.

He loved this part about being a ghoul. No nose? The deeper into the pussycat he could go, and he was about to snatch a little piece of his soul back from her with what he was about to do. “John!” She gasped, glancing back at him with those blown out pupils and swollen wet lips pouting over at him. He buried his face between her wet folds sucking on her clit as tenderly as he could just to tip her over the edge form the fabulous way his tongue was tasting her.

She had never had anyone to satisfy her as he does. He knew every curve without saying anything, and that was fine. But right now? She was quivering in that way - the way it always did when she was both overwhelmed and underwhelmed with the force of a stone hard orgasm. “Mayor!” Rowan begged, trying to pry her hips away from his heavenly mouth.

Her fingernails dug into his middle in a warning, a familiar high pitch whine rising in her panted begs. “That’s right,” He gasped when he kissed her clit. “Cum for me, sugar. Show me what I do to you.”

He curled a finger right in that perfect spot, his tongue meeting the other end of the connection, and Rowan came violently. The strength in her legs was bucking with the force of a doe outrunning a predator, earning her name title, he thought.

He only had a split second to move before she leaked over his finger in little stripes, each one a strong bolt of lightning flashing through her thin body. It always boosted his ego when he could do something like that, especially to someone as heart-stopping as Rowan.

The one with the big eyes that told the story of the spirit of the world. Those were the eyes he had rolled back in her head, his cum covering her petite face when she landed on the inside of his thigh. He had no shame in admitting the way she was, it made him cum faster than anything and anyone else.

She wheezed for breath swallowing every now and then. “You okay, love?” He said with a chuckle, still feeling her body convulsing some in post orgasm. He carefully adjusted them, removing her pants in the process. He leaned her back on the couch admiring her legs forever stuck open until her swelling and pulsating went down. Her shirt was crooked, one nipple still flopped out. Her pretty hair was a mess so disastrously sexy for the bedroom an adult star would be pissed at how easy she made it.

He fished around for a cup not diluted by chem mixtures and remnants of alcohol to get her some water. He returned from his temporary dip in the bathroom she lay completely nude on her stomach, head laying on folded arms. Her shirt hung on a nearby bookshelf and he snorted in amusement. “Ya tired there, beautiful?” Hancock croaked, kneeling down by her. One large eye said hello when she turned her face to him, and he didn’t ever think he’d be over the heart-stopping way her eyes told her whole life story.

It was hard he didn’t see it before.

He tucked her hair behind her ear asking softly, “Why dont’cha just go get in my bed?” He asked softly. “Just a few feet back, don’t want ya having an anymore sore neck than ya will.”

She sat up fully on one elbow exposing her bruised up chest, some scars and nicks disturbing the porcelain skin that had once been untouched by the blasphemous outside. “I didn’t think I had that honor unless we fucked in your bed.” She confessed. It hurt him to hear her say that just because of how absolutely true that statement was.

He shook his head ignoring the stabbing pain in his heart when she smiled that faintest hint of a sad grin, her lashes still damp from the tears built up during their rendezvous. He was so absolutely in love with her, and she had to know that. “Come in bed, love. Mi Casa, Su Casa, right?” He kissed her forehead collecting her hands in hers…

Then again, the poor girl grew up being ruined by a brother who didn’t know how to teach with a light hand. She didn’t know that love, the love without emotional scars. Someone to protect her, someone… Someone like him.

He realized how much of a shield he was to her. He would swoop in to protect her, he always had. He was a mystery unknown to her intelligent mind. He even heard how she was working between the Memory Den and Rowan’s old vault to come up with new chem concoctions with Curie. She crawled into his side of the bed by the edge, and he scowled a moment. It was long gone the moment he saw just how small she appeared in his California king bed.

She was no petite woman height wise. She was almost as tall as him, so it didn’t count. She was a curvy little thing unknowing of the truly unique beauty she was. Women would die to have her body style. Sure, her boobs weren’t the biggest, but she had the curvy Nuka cola body every woman at one point feigned after. Going from the 1940’s and up. But be damned if Hancock didn’t see a child all at once too. Metaphorically.

That would make him a pedophile, folks, and he is a lot of things. Some weird predator he is not.

Her eyes were like russet cave canals that drew you in to see the walls covered in emeralds, the brown of earth, and the gray of rocks spotting where the green jades hadn’t grown in all the way. They had paintings carved into the stone telling every memory she could account for, from birth to throwbacks she could recall picture for a picture in a book, to now. Her body was marked up gaining a new story with each lashing.

She was beautiful, but he always had a kink for a bloody sex battle ending in one of them bleeding from being too damn rough. They’d come close, Hancock was still striving for the moment it happened like a popup surprise so it’d be even better. He lay down next to her almost waiting for her to come over to him. She didn’t. “Everything all right over there, doe?” He asked, lighting up a cigarette.

Her eyes seemed to glow in the dark finding his eyes that blended in with the grim setting of the orangery lit room. “Yeah. Why?”

“Ya ain’t cuddlin’ me, silly.” He replied, all but yanking her over. She was surprisingly tense despite the way she usually molded into him like clay the moment she got the chance to be all over him. “Don’t tell me since we ain’t tormentin’ ourselves the spark is gone already.”

To his surprise, she laughed a little. It was strained and tired, but wholeheartedly there. “I didn’t know if I was allowed.” She whispered, hugging his middle as she belonged there. Her hair tickled his chest when she tucked herself under his arm and damn if this cigarette didn’t feel like a third wheel right now. He put it out in the ashtray just so this little red-haired girl could get all his individual seconds.

Nate never knew the definition of privacy. Like. Ever, really. So, when the mayor was needed and no one knew where to find him - he did the old’ lockpick the warehouse trick. He heard the girlish giggle of Rowan. There were a low hum and a cigarette smoke rasp that the vault dweller knew so well. He didn’t give a damn about finding them in a compromising position. In fact, Deacon, Fahrenheit, and himself had an ongoing bet on who would find them like that first.

A lot of their bets were systematically enrolled in the mayor’s sex life. Nick’s was pretty boring, you’d be surprised how many Codsworth has.

Ongoing, he rounded the corner seeing Rowan in something - a leotard. With a tutu made of scorched and bruised material. “I never knew you were a ballerina.” The ghoul spoke with a smile in his voice. Hancock sat in the corner by the stairs leading up to the second floor, whiskey in his hand. His eyes sparkled with the little fire they were burning in their metal tin barrel. Rowan perched upon the tip of her toes with an arch twirling about the room to a made-up song in her head.

Her long hair flowed around her like golden brass fingers raking the space around her. She stopped when she spotted Nate standing there with a smug smirk. She toppled over a broken radio with a shrill shriek, and the mayor simply stared over at him like he hadn’t been caught sneaking off with his dame of the nights.

“Daisy is looking for you,” Nate stated simply. “Didn’t mean to intrude on you seducing the mayor.” He brushed his shaggy black hair back behind his ear sparing a glance to the woman lying face down in the floorboards now. There was a muffled curse directed at him somewhere in all her grumbling.

Hancock was simply getting tired of being all business. He was thinking about finding some sort of trouble to roll in with Nate. The problem was, he didn’t wanna leave Rowan. He needed his space, but the poor girl was as fragile as a piece of porcelain sometimes. She had a wandering soul too. He kind of missed the short time the three were on the road, truthfully. “‘Sup?” He sipped from the flask so casually. “You didn’t win the bet yet.” He announced proudly.

Nate’s bushy eyebrows pulled together. “What bet?”

The ghoul glowered with just a simple small twitch of his eye. “Ya really think the mayor of the town doesn’t hear the gossip? There are ass kissers at every corner.”

Rowan pulled herself to her feet dashing around the room with the tutu around her arm. Hancock was really enjoying the spandex covering her curves. Mostly for the fact, her ass was so plush and there. He wanted to fuck her then and there, but Nate wasn’t gonna give them time to breathe. He highly doubted Rowan would want him watching either.

Though the idea was absolutely intriguing…

When Rowan’s ass swung past him he forgot all sense and immediately worked on making the situation a reality. “Where ya goin’, babe?” He called up when she pranced up the stairs.

“Changing!” She squeaked back. “I’m not wearing this out there. Not unless you’re looking for a sure fire way to end up having a public orgy because you can’t control yourself.”

Nate snorted because a town orgy is something he had yet to see here.

Given how vocal Rowan was too? None of these people would stand a chance of not getting it on after.

“Ya ain’t safe here, darlin’.” he mused, inspecting his nails that remained no more. “You’re settlin’ with the man who gives no fucks and will take you here and now.” He used the railings on the stairs to pull himself up smiling over at Nate who was giving him a knowing look.

“I know ya got questions.” John obviously vocalized catching that smug shit-eating grin spread across his face. “But I do too. What does Daisy want with me?”

Easy to avoid another embarrassing in-depth conversation about feelings, John said. He lifted his chest up in pride as the sole survivor went on about some sort of package missing from one of the incoming caravans. He could hear Rowan buckling up her boots, and he immediately knew she was wearing those jeans that hugged her hips too tight and that damned road leather get up she made look so good for someone who hates getting her hands dirty. “I’ll fix it, I’ll fix it.” He waved at him with an unbothered sigh.

Rowan’s feet clunked down the stairs and Hancock had to fight that sharp kick to his stomach that he always experienced when he saw her enter a room. Sometimes he swore she could read his mind because her eyes had that telltale glimmer of mischief when she caught him standing just a little straighter just a little tighter. “Did I interrupt?” She asked, smiling over at the dark haired man.

Hancock laughed looping an arm around her waist upset to see her out of the cute blush leotard she wore. He was really looking forward to ripping that thing to the side and plowing her pretty ass like he wanted to- “And homeboy here is totally zoned out.” Nate’s voice fizzled in like a dial on a radio. As if further proving his point, the mayor blinked. “What?” He wondered.

  
Nate pursed his lips just muttering, “I told ya so…” Turning and leading the way to the outside.

Rowan turned to go after him but Hancock caught her hand midway of her standing on the balls of her feet. “Wait…” He instructed softly.

She turned hearing the gentle pull at the edge of his voice. She turned those eyes on him and there he was - speechless. She was a weakness in him. When she smiled, so did he. When she cried, his whole world fell to her feet in chemtrails and spliced metal. He cupped her cheek bringing their lips together in a familiar embrace. Her lips felt so damn good against his own thin ones, and he hoped it’d never stop.

“As much as I enjoy hogging you, the other lady calls.” Rowan murmured on his lips.

Holding his hands she leaned forward to whisper, “Goodneighbor needs its mayor. So, c’mon. There’s plenty of me to go around later.” She promised.

That seemed to grab his attention. He didn’t miss a beat the moment she turned away from him and they erupted in the light of the outside for the first time that day.

“So you smoked a lot of cannabis?” Rowan asked sprawled out in Nate’s lap. He was sitting on a bench outside, Rowan’s head in his lap puffing on some new form of cigarettes Curie and Nate had been working on. She meant to ask them about why they were so close, but the questions escaped her when

Nate mentioned his occasional drug use. Marijuana had long been destroyed, even though from what Rowan had seen of the remnants of brotherhood, enclave, and the institute, she was certainly one of them had it.

Nate nodded. “All the time. Don’t know how the hell I could’ve made it through anything without it. Being in the military was pretty hard. Always prepped and ready ya know.” He shrugged. “So when Curie announced the other day she thinks there’s a way she can resurrect it,” He shrugged. “It’s not addicting like the jet. You get the same high, just without the dependency.”

“Don’t gotta explain to me,” Rowan informed him, tipping her head up to look up at him. “Am a genius scientist remember? I’ve read every science book you can name. If Curie wouldn’t mind me putting my two sense in-”

“You know she still feels awful for relieving your position.” The vault dweller overran her words with grave importance. “She wants to work over whatever beef you guys have.”

Rowan frowned a little at the name. “I don’t hold grudges.” She murmured honestly. “Nothing like that, I just…” She cleared her throat then took the biggest puff of jet she could. It must’ve been a good one because at some point Nate’s mouth was moving but nothing was coming out of it. She was giggling, watching his face go from somewhat nonchalant to curiosity.

She laughed, and he understood then. Okay. She was high.

“Which brings me on the subject…” Nate fiddled with his wedding ring not really looking up at her eyes. “Your brother, he’s asked about you.”

Her laughter ceased like a dying applause. He looked at her expression seeing her staring ahead with cloudy eyes. “I think you should see him. Explain your life, he’s worried sick.”

He’s not her brother, she wanted to say. Instead, she reached up patting his face with a simple smile. “Mind ya business. I know undetectable poisons, buddy.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so glad you guys are really enjoying my story and all it’s amazing things it’s got to offer over the next few chapters. I also wanna share with you guys that I’m getting better in my personal life. Right now I’ve got the right balance, and my muse is high. No pun intended but when I get hogh I embody my versions of Hancock. His development in the game made me feel personally attacked bc I felt like I was playing with my actual self. Shit is made wild but yes. Ignore this ramble and go on.

“Get ya shit, kid,” Hancock announced kicking open the office door interrupting the game of Uno her and Fahrenheit were in the middle of. Nate stood by glaring pointedly like a scorned toddler muttering, “This game is bullshit, Rowan.” Hancock blinked a few times when his entrance didn’t even stir a soul in the world. All he saw were a bunch of colored cards with arrows and a very very pissed off Fahrenheit. Her teeth were grit, vein spangling in her forehead. Rowan was grinning ear to ear her little hand of cards only two.

“She’s got a reverse again!” Nate announced, smacking the piles around like a child.

Fahrenheit pounced on him like an angry cheetah screeching, “You fucker!” And whipped out her flip knife. Nate was quick dodging swipe after swipe while fisting caps from his pockets. “Hey!” He called. “I’ll give you some caps for your time then!”

“You didn’t wanna live up to your bet!” Swipe.

Rowan sat back on her knees her eyes big behind the glasses she’d manage to build for herself. “I…” She struggled to watch the two outside the office doors sparring. There was a mess of colored cards leading out to the dust cloud forming outside. “It was a game called Uno. I’ve…” She looked to the mayor with helpless eyes. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh at the whole scenario, or if he wanted to get involved in a game this exciting. “Never seen anyone bet on… on uno.”

At that, a bellowed laugh racked the mayor’s limbs like skeletons in the wind of a hurricane. “That’s the spirit of Goodneighbor. If I had to give you an example of what it is to be a town person…” The ghoul tipped his hat down to the fight still brewing outside. Now with Fahrenheit, Nate, and a few others who got in just for the hell of it. A sporadic bar fight. Rowan laughed too because it was so oddly fitting. But then her worry set in. “Should we help?” She asked.

Hancock just shook his head helping her up to her feet. She brushed off the light blue cut off jeans she wore and adjusted her thin fabric of a top. It fell down her shoulders when she stood up full height. She went to fix it, but Hancock caught her hand. “Looks better like that.” He mused softly, taking advantage of his closeness to brush the back of his knuckles against her collarbones feeling her soft skin.

She smiled at him purring softly, “What did you come in so excitedly for?” She whispered, catching his hand to kiss each fingertip.

“Ya know,” Hancock chuckled. “Ya shouldn’t put things in ya mouth when ya don’t know where they’ve been.”

She stopped in consideration because it was truly a serious statement with him. She reminded herself to get a check for more ghouls STDs later. But for now, she dropped his hand to kiss him instead mumbling on his lips, “I’ve done a lot worse, mayor.”

He couldn’t disagree. But he held her close for a moment when she retreated. Despite the ruckus screeching and the hail of gunfire busting more holes in these walls, which now were probably gonna do this shit for brains place in if it got anymore holey, but it was just her and him. “We’re gonna g help Nate with a settlement on a beach,” He announced with a crooked smile. “Which means, we get to go do this whole beach thing ya always wanted to do.”

“Don’t you hate long walks on them though?” Rowan asked with a frown. She pulled back with an excited little grin. “But I got new bathing suits, I wanna show you one!”

Hancock just grinned, because yeah, he hated sand, ocean, water. He never understood the sand in the nut sack grind for the next three days after leaving thing. He hated the waters truthfully, it was petrifying. Man-eating dolphins, mirelurks, they were full of predators. The dolphin attacks died down, so he supposed he could risk it…

However, when Rowan reappeared from his bathroom in a strappy little bikini in the shape of an upside down star, and bottoms hugging her curvaceous hips. Her ass was there on full display with the little bit of fabric sewed up together. She grinned excitedly, and immediately Hancock had no restraint.

She was so sinfully innocent with a smile so genuine, and a body so damning… He swooped her up in his arms his hands gripping her plush ass when he backed her on a wall. He didn’t give a damn that anyone could peek in and see the two. That was far from his mind. “I don’t think I'm like you wearing this in public.” He mused, fingers going down to the black bottoms pressed between his rough jeans.

Her heels dug into his lower back her teeth catching her lower lip in her teeth in that cute little suggestive way she did. She peered under her eyelashes and he couldn’t wait to see the way her pupils dilated when he hitched two fingers inside of her. He tugged the thong aside feeling her excited tight bundle of nerves meeting his fingertips. “Always so excited.” He mused, feeling along her wet folds.

Rowan kept peering over his shoulder watching for the fight outside to die down. Thankfully it was still ongoing so no one would come and watch. She’d just have to be quiet.

They’d never know what was going on seeing Hancock fully clothed. He could hide her. Hancock was watching the anxiety spike across her face and it excited him further. “Be a good girl, be quiet.” He curved two fingers inside her and Rowan’s hips buckled. There was her shut up button, he noted.

He slid two fingers in and out of her puckering walls, but she narrowed her eyes. “Fuck me like a real man. Another finger.” The mayor chuckled at her bedroom growl, adding a third one.

She grinned blissfully then when he fucked her just with those middle three fingers. Her hips rolled down on them muffling her noises in her lower lip. Hancock loved feeling her straining, her thighs clenching each time she felt she was gonna fall down the wall.

“Why can’t I wear this in public?” She panted softly, an arm going around his neck to bring him closer. Their foreheads pressed together a moment when he quickened his fingers up inside her mimicking a deliciously slick sound.

Her pants went an octave higher and a tad bit racier. She was fighting off her delicious pleasured cries he loved. “Because, this right here, is mine. Don’t want no one else thinkin’ they can get this.” Her need spazzed, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Shit.” She whimpered using that as her get off point. When her fingers went to her clit Hancock smiled.

“I wanna see you touch yourself.” He demanded. She rested her head back on the wall her back arching up off of it. She was on full display in this pretty little bathing suit. White and black of her skin against his dusty red combo. He held her lips apart with two fingers watching her circling her clit quickly.

He angled his fingers just right and she clenched so tightly around him he thought they were gonna get stuck. “Fuck, Row.” Hancock mused devilishly wishing that was his cock in that pretty little trap of hers.

“Harder.” She keened.

“Please.” She begged.

He was afraid of breaking her but replied anyway. She suckled his fingers so tight it felt like another mouth, and fuck, Hancock was drooling. “G-gonna cum, John!” She gushed, her breaths hard and uneven as her body jerked. It was such a beautiful twisted display, what lust does to such a heavenly creature like her.

“That’s it.” He continued with the jabbing stabs of his fingers until she came with a cry easily muffled by the pained ones outside the doorway.

Hancock had one hell of a mess to clean up in his pants when she released that mating call. He pulled out his fingers going to wipe them off when she caught them instead and sucked them off clean. His mouth fell open, and she just smiled, adjusting her glasses.

It’s She slipped down like nothing ever happened and started packing for their upcoming trip. The mayor just stood there wondering about his choice in women, and why he always had to turn them into bigger freaks than he intended?

Nate limped next to them when the three men outside the streets of Goodneighbor. “Remind me to… Never, ever.” He coughed. “Play Uno with you three again.” He muttered, rubbing at the bruise forming on his jaw.

Rowan just grinned. “You’re the one who said you wanted to start betting caps. Lay off the jet for a little.” She added at the end. “It makes you stupid.”

“You said it’d be fun!” Nate bickered. “Fahrenheit almost killed me!”

“You owe me. I was gonna win the game and you had to go and do what you did.” Rowan said defensively. “Fuck you very much.”

Hancock groaned, already chugging a few heavy swallows. If this was how the trip was gonna start at the beginning before they even left the gates, he was in for one hell of an adventure with them. “Can we stop the bitchin’ and start gettin’ somewhere?” He groaned.

Nate scowled down at Rowan. “Four eyes.” He spat.

“Popsicle dick!” She snapped, Hancock dropping behind to wrap an arm around her waist in a warning.

She felt his hand grip her ass tight in a warning. Behave. She shot him a low warning look under her lashes and fuck if his cock didn't just switch back to life. New Haven beach was a little while up, and they had a little bit of walkin’ to do. So stopping for quick fucks was a no-no.

“Behave.” He warned her. “Or you’ll be in for some punishing later.”

“You promise?” She batted those eyes, and he had to resist from throwing his dick in her throat.

Nate was in a chipper mood despite the recent activities. “Curie’s gonna meet us there.” He mused, and his smile went from that cool asshole grin to something warm like liquid gold.

Rowan’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “The robot Curie?” She asked.

“Why?” Nate looked at her oddly as if the question was out of the norm. “She’s… My wife.” He said the last bit like a question.

Her eyes were wide. Oh. Robot and human thing. Okay. “Oh.” Was all she managed to vocalize. The whole thing was so pitifully awkward to watch he honestly wanted to hide under the shell of his red duster. Hancock simply kissed the side of her head muttering, “And I’m the one with a drug problem.” He laughed under his breath.

“I swear, no one ever told me.” Rowan rushed out in a whisper. “I forgot things like that exist. I’m sorry.”

Hancock just shook his head thinking to himself, wow. He had a good girl.

As sundown approached, so did their destination. Rowan was leaning on his heavy her feet starting to slide instead of a step. Kissing her forehead he muttered, “We’re almost there.” He told her. Nate all but shrugged all his baggage off when he caught sight of a petite woman standing at water’s edge. Rowan stood straighter having never ever seen him run that fast in her whole time of knowing him.

Something in her stomach tightened in jealousy when he swept up a petite little woman and kissed her like she was the most important thing to him. Her shaggy beach waves fell over a perfect heart-shaped face. Rowan awkwardly followed behind Hancock when he went to meet Curie and Nate, used to their love charades by now. Was this Curie..?

Rowan was breaking off to his left like a crumbling piece of cookie. The woman turned to look her way dressed in a black one piece. “Is this Rowan?” She spoke in that same heavy French accent she remembered from way back when.

“You have grown into such a beautiful young woman!” Her smile was so warm - and her heart was cold remembering how angry she’d been.

“Thanks…” She mused, shuffling her boots in the wet sand taking a few steps back from losing herself in the suckling puddles of mush.

“So… You and Nate got married? You got a… A human body?” She looked between Nate and her in confusion. “Did you get feelings before or… Or after you got it?” It was a blunt question, but she had to know.

Curie laughed then, and it was a cute little sound.

Nate shrugged. “She wanted to expand for science reasons.”

“For science! You inspired me to go outside of the vault, Rowan!” Her eyes buzzed with a familiar excitement she recognized in her reflection. “Your expanse of knowledge on herbs and their benefits are amazing. Thank you for helping me with our chem problem. I’m so happy to have met you face to face.” She hugged her despite being wet from the waves, and she tensed at first.

She slowly pats her head muttering, “You’re welcome, Curie.”

“I hope we can get over our lumps from our past, yes?” She took her hands in hers looking up at her with some kind of worry. “I didn’t mean to run you out of your home.”

“It was gonna happen at some point,” Hancock interjected. “It wasn’t your fault, Curie. That place has some kinda weird clone thing. They have a backup for everyone in there.”

Rowan nodded in agreement, tugging her hands-free when she saw exactly what Nate was in the process of rebuilding - and saw huge houses still standing on their foundations. These houses had to be worth so much at one point. They were lined up with symmetrical builds, like blocks put together for a painter to scatter about on his canvas. They were art pieces that could house so many.

Hancock noted the stars in her eyes when she eyeballed a house with a slanted roof angling into an awning. It was a three bedroom house, one of the first ones Hancock helped with months ago. They were finishing the bar area, but it was pretty much finished.

“Do people live here?” Rowan asked sluggishly making her way up the heavy sands. He laughed, knowing she was debating on plopping down and wrenching those godforsaken things off just to save herself the last three minutes of hell on her poor thighs and calves.

She threw him a glare, and he just remembered seeing her in that bikini and asked, “Can you put on that bikini when we get inside?” He asked, taking her hand once they got to the newly created pavement. He was gonna lead her up into their own little slice of heaven in a nearby place Hancock may or may not have bought as some sort of vacation home.

Rowan broke out in fits of giggles. “Sure.”

Her words began to whine and muffle when Hancock lavished her pretty body with his teeth and mouth. Her words and breaths kissed the open air from where she lay back on the bed with his head between her legs. His fingers were working inside her pooling wetness as his tongue selfishly worked on her clit.

“Fuck!” She sobbed, cries loud and wanton. She was gasping for breath as her first orgasm tittered and came explosively.

“That’s it.” He urged. “Cum for me, pretty. But as I said, you’re gonna pay for your bad behavior. It’s gonna be a long time before I let you cum again.”

The words sprung goosebumps all over her hot body. She came over his mouth with a loud shout breaking off into a despaired whimper when he kept going and going. “Stop!” She begged softly, pushing his head away when it became too much. She caught her breath, looking up at him with her swollen lips open in a circle.

“Easy now, kitten…” He urged, touching her cheek with the back of her fingers. “You good, sunshine?”

She nodded, a lazy smile coming to her face. “Give me a second.” She requested. He did just that, taking his time in kissing her jaw slowly, following the curves along her chin. He kissed her lower lip then her upper one.

He took his time loving every part of her he could. All to show her she deserved praise, worship, to have someone touching her body this way. She returned the kiss with soft little touches of her fingertips following up his chest.

He guided him home. Sliding her palms to his waist she fisted his hard cock when he fit between her legs. She met his eyes whispering, “Go.” And he pushed in full. She gripped the back of his neck her body jerking when his broadened cock broke through her tight walls.

“Yes!” She hissed through her teeth. He grinned down at her, like a shark. He was feeding her dirty flame again, and he was all for it.

He thrust deep and slow a moment, feeling her wet walls. But he wanted to be in charge, fully, have her at his command. He retreated tangling his fingers into her hair. “Turn around.” He demanded. “On your hands and knees.”

Rowan obeyed her hair spilling like honey over his marred skin. He grinned seeing her on display for him. He could feel every inch of clammy skin along the insides of her thighs, see them shaking.

He liked it this way when he could have control over how hard he could pound into her, take her. He thrust in at once keeping a hold on her hair, another on her hip. He used the hold on her hip to power his rapid movements, and Rowan was all but in one piece right now. “Shit, that cock!” She groaned out. “It fits so well.”

“And your tight pussy takes it so well.” He praised, releasing her hair just to fit his thumbs into the dimples in her back. His fingers curled around her hips, and she froze. That was like shoving the gear of a vertibird into command. He was gonna break her tonight. He jerked into her stroking in and out of her with a spuriousness she’d never felt before.

“Fuck!” She whined, fully fisting the blankets when she toppled over. All her mind could come up within the puddle of her brain we’re curses. Their skin slapped together like excited hands and her walls were drenched already.

“You like my cock don’t you?” He hissed through his teeth at her. Fuck, she always felt so goddamn good when he fucked her, touched her, just existed. “Tears you right open.”

She was full on crying out now sweat beading over her forehead. “So deep.” She whimpered feeling the repeated assault on the cervix. She was enjoying the moans erupting from John so much she didn’t care if he actually broke her. She fingered the sheets yanking on them when he angled his thrusts down just a little more and-

Knock knock knock.

“Oh not now,” Rowan begged her orgasm so close. Still, John didn’t lighten up. She knew people could hear outside the door. “Babe.” She urged over the clapping of his balls on her clammy skin, “They can hear us.”

“I want them to hear you,” he replied with the masochistic smile. “Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head whispering, “Fuck me like you just were.” She said urgently. “It felt so good.”

His cock rammed back into her and she was gone again. “Yeah!” She reached back to hold his hips but he yanked her arms back instead of leaving her at his full disposal now. Her cheeks dug into the sheets, his hips never ending. “Fuck, fuck, John!” She warned, hoping whoever outside the door was gone. “I’m gonna cum.”

Upon hearing that, he stopped, and she cried out in frustration. “What? Why’d you stop?”

She was so close, her skin bristling up, her stomach toiling over her pussy begging to be torn open again. The ghoul cocked a bare eyebrow gripping her ass cheeks. “Remember I said it’d be a while before you cum? You’re being punished for not behaving.”

“I never behave.” She bit back.

“I know.” Hancock chuckled, smacking her plump ass once. She hissed, the pain turning into some kind of pleasure. “That’s okay. I’ll just have to correct you.”

He guided himself back into her again, and she would have screamed in delight. Her moans were nasally in an attempt to full them. But it was those silent sounds like that always fueled him to milk more beautiful sounds from her. She heard his breath pick up when his movements did. “Fuck me.” She whimpered, biting her shoulder when she looked back at him.

Using his palms he pressed her back out like an iron board having her full ass in view. He sucked on two fingers lubing them up with his tongue. He slid them into her puckered back entrance making Rowan yell out. “Use me.” She begged. “Please. Make me feel good in your naughty way.” She looked back at him watching her with glowing russet eyes that vibrates his whole spine.

He fucked her without abandon sending her body bouncing on the sheets, bed banging a hole into the wall. “Fuck me, you filthy bastard.” She begged, her thighs tightening. He loved when she did that when her orgasm was coming full force.

It made her that much tighter around his abrasive length and fuck, he was so close to blowing. “Am I allowed to cum?” She asked. Hancock smacked down on her ass hearing her breathy pants turn to sharp grunts with each blow to the flesh.

“No.” He responded.

He was so close, he wanted her to feel him filling her, feeling her orgasm milking with his. He slammed back in once, twice, and they stuck her like a sword through an enemy’s chest and filled her with his seed. She couldn’t help herself at that moment and exploded over his cock creating squishing sound when it made a mess around the length still shoved inside her and pulsing rope after rope into her.

There was something so refreshing about being used in such a dirty way that always turned her on. Her body was jerking trying to pull away from the bolts of electricity he threw her body. As he softened, he pulled out being careful to lay her body down on the sheets noticing how sensitive she was. She lay there on her stomach with a knee pulled up trying to find her breath. Fuck, she was fucking beautiful.

The little bit of mascara ran under her eyes, glasses laying in the sheets somewhere. Her beautiful russet eyes were lidded when they looked over at him. “You okay?” He laughed some because honestly, he was breathless too.

He didn’t wanna leave the scene of seeing her still glistening with sweat, her breasts pressed up against the sheets she lay on. This was a whole new level of intimate to him. He lay there next to her after fisting a hand towel. She cleaned herself up some, her movements sluggish.

He pulled her close by her hands whispering, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I love your post-sex look.” He told her, kissing each of her fingers. He let his lips rest on them a little longer, savoring every touchy taste of her. She played with the gold chain - recently polished - she noticed, looking up at him. “You’re always beautiful, but… Here, this is what I long for.”

She flushed, and he kissed her cheeks in delight. “I’m glad you think I’m sexy after something that would shame the strongest pope.” Hancock shrugged, reaching up to tuck her hair back behind her ear.

He kissed her cute button nose saying, “You’re every bit of beautiful as you are smart. It’s one of the most attractive things to me.” She hugged his neck tightly muttering into it, “You’re just trying to get brownie points now.”

“Did it work?” He asked with a muffled laugh in her honey golden hair.

“Not a chance, but I don’t wanna get dressed to go to dinner,” Rowan said. “I don’t wanna be rude to Curie.”

“What if she was knocking at the door?”

Her face blanched, and the ghoul smirked. “Payback for all the nights I had to listen to them.”

Something told Rowan she didn’t wanna know what Curie sounded like in bed.


	16. Chapter 16

Hancock really hated beaches. And he was starting to think that maybe he was gonna break a sweat for the first time since he went ghoul nine years ago. Rowan, on the other hand, was playing with the sediments and teeth washed ashore. Unplucked by scavengers, left abandoned. Nate had also taken a fancy finding solace in the remainders of the old world joys, he supposed. She smiled his way, and damn if he didn’t just fucking collapse under the weight of her precious adoration.

He threw out the butt of his cigarette the moment Rowan trudged to him the curvaceous current pushing her legs back some. Once she broke free of the magnetic fields of the ocean she sprinted out like a bullet shot from a gun. He caught her taking in the temporary glistening her skin was under the New England sun. She was fifty shades of beautiful from her bright summer grin to her flushed freckled cheeks. “Come in with me!” She begged, taking two of his hands with a pull.

He couldn’t say no when she looked so pathetically cute. “Have ya ever smelled wet ghoul?” He asked with a scoff of disgust. “Wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Would rather watch you.”

“You put your hands me, I’ll put your hands on me.” She promised, the innocent faced broken exposing the freak underneath her outer shell.

He laughed and kissed her soft little lips earning a giggle that vibrated his whole being. She tugged away leaving the linger of pressure on his mouth he longed to have back. Her fingers slipped through hers like the water she was splashing in, never going past calf deep. Her sun-kissed body reflected the beauty of the large outstanding land of water. He couldn’t kick this kind of feeling, this kind of… of longing. For her, and just her.

She brightened up his dim little world, he was terrified. There was something about mindlessly fucking a woman with a pretty body, face, and heart to match, and to have people wanting her the same way he did. Fuck. He ran to her when she giggled running from the rubbery fish bumping her ankles when he swooped her up by her elbows. He put her on solid ground cupping the back of her neck. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful.” He sounded drunk, but she couldn’t find a hint of any alcohol on his breath.

He actually looked… Sober.

“Am I?” Rowan asked, and the audacity she had to even ask…

He kissed her so fiercely it hurt. Like he purposely meant to steal her breath away when he did it. She hitched a grunt recalling the morning of her trying to get ready, and the ghoul fucking her beyond comprehending. This was one of the brief kisses that got her off as easy as his fingers did. She pulled back with a fierce pant, “What was that for?” She asked, lazily hugging his waist.

He didn’t care a shadowed damp outline of her face was pressed into the white of his top, all that mattered was that she was wet, in a skimpy black one piece, and he was so goddamn turned on he wanted to take her in public. The flash of danger in his eyes when she met his dark charcoal orbs alerted her of his plans. A huge part of her was down, just because he could go, and go, and go, and go... “Don’t think about it, Johnny.” She giggled. “You’re not having your way with me right now.”

“Later?” His eyes grew big and puppy dog like his thin lower lip poking out. The worst part about all of this is that it was honestly working for him. Her heart swelled, eyes widening behind the sea salty splashed lenses in empathy.

Hancock laughed then, ducking down to kiss her again, hugging her even though this was supposed to be their sort of vacation, and she never got to experience the wonders of beach life. Guess growing up on the water helped his love for this shit to die out. However, watching her, it was something unique. He was actually seeing the bright-eyed colors a child looks forward to on the pages of books.

He realized then, that kid was her. She was seeing color for the first time and he was there to experience this with her. Then, the idea of swimming didn’t seem so bad. He stepped out of his clothes except for the boxers he wore. When she heard the slush of the soft sand moving, she turned to look over her shoulder finding him - the expression enough was to have him right in her arms.

Her laughter was the best song to hear when the waves crashed in time with her delightful chuckles. She set a fire up and down his skin when her fingertips scraped on his skin when she was afraid he’d drop her - and he fisted her in his arms sandwiching her against his rugged skin. She smiled wide enough to crack his heart right in half. He was having her eyes dance in the way the stars did in the night. She was staring up at him with something much stronger than the mentats in his system.

Come to think, they’d wear off about thirty minutes ago…

He was brought back to Earth when she kissed him and ended every argument in his head. His mind exploded in bright neon lights of tie-dye explosions the moment his lids closed their curtains. All he could see, feel, taste, was her. The woman whose skin was as soft and warm as the sand around them. “Don’t you ever stop that.” He threatened in a growl against her lips, biting down hard enough to make it bleed. He wanted to. Rowan keened up against his teeth tightening her fingers on his shoulders-

“Ahem.” Nate coughed, shouldering Hancock hard enough to break the couple apart in a satisfying smack.

Rowan’s lips were still puckered mid-turn to see what the fuck had detached them when his eyes opened again. Nate stood with proud hands on his hips staring the two of them down. He looked a little… “Are ya sick?” The ghoul asked, standing up now drenched. Lovely. And his dick was hard and on full display.

The vault dweller pretended not to see the tent - he’d use that against him in a minute - but for now, “No” Nate barked. “You two have been going at it like rabbits every night. Just as I think it’s okay to sleep, you start fucking so loud the other tenants have taken it as a sign to have an orgy to see who can be loudest.”

“Still Rowan.” Hancock piped in.

She glared, he smiled, Nate all out looked like he was gonna strangle them. “Either fuck quieter, learn self-control, or gag her.”

Something flashed in Rowan’s eyes then, and everyone noted the little twitch in his drenched trousers when he caught it.

She smiled, it was dark, black oozing from between her pearly whites. The image made him swallow and turn like a compass needle to the north, pointing out to the open waters instead of them. “I think someone has a problem to take care of,” Nate said, the laughter not hidden under his forced disrupting cough.

His skin buzzed like mini electric currents when Rowan’s palms slid up his chest from behind. She smelled like summer and sex, and her sweet aroma of seduction… It didn't help when her lips were so feather soft on his scarred up skin. She followed the length between his shoulder blades. “You play with fire, John…” Her chocolate was freshly melted chocolate, her words sweet on the back of his neck as she kissed along the back of it. “You’re gonna get hurt.”

She bit on the side of his neck at the same time her hands spontaneously dropped to rub the tip of his ferociously hunting cock. She kissed right under his ears purring into it, “If you don’t gag me tonight,” She slipped away whispering, “You’ll be my bitch tonight. You’ll see daddy’s dick for sure.”

Hancock laughed, but grabbed her chin and initiated a heated kiss when he turned to meet her pretty shit talking mouth. She was smiling into it, he could feel the serene way her lips shook and the breath caught in a harmonious laugh. “You won’t threaten me like that again…” He mused disappointedly, yet playfully, “Because you know the moment this cock comes out, your mouth waters.” He kissed her forehead resting them together a moment.

Her eyes were a glimmering shade of earthy greens and browns when he peeled his eyelids back to look at her. Her lashes had hints of gold in them to compliment her auburn red hair. It worked nicely with her giant doe-like eyes that made him fall so head over heels for in the first place. They were as innocent as they were haunting. Sometimes when he closed his eyes he could see the twirls of life in the hues of hazel. They told a story far beyond his age, hers, an old life far prior to any of their existences. That was the only way Hancock could find it in his drugged up brain to categorize her. She was an old soul type fucker, she was smart because she’s knowingly lived through a whole lifespan under the crisis of someone else.

Rowan’s bell-like giggle disrupted his thought process snapping him back to reality. “What?” He mused in confusion.

Rowan knuckled his chin breaking from his arms, “You were staring too long, you zonked out on me.” She commented. “I said we need to get back, Mama June is gonna make some of her stew I keep hearing about.” She was retreating as she spoke, her voice becoming one with the hum and rush of crashing waves and burning winds of the beach. She shrugged on a shirt muttering somewhere, “I’ve been dying to try it.”

Hancock lazily eloped behind her with his some careless, ain’t in a rush to be nowhere, saunter. She looked back at him with her messy hair in beachy waves down her sunburned back. She’d pay for that later, and that gave the pervy mayor an excuse to slide his hands right on her. He chuckled to himself when she huffed, taking off leaving him behind to wander. She knew he’d be right there if she ever got too far, he’d never leave her.

His eyes widened.

She knew as well as he did, he didn’t wanna leave her, he couldn’t. He had an attachment to her, I mean, they had kind of confessed feelings, right? That didn’t mean the person with feelings would always have them, but - “You’re thinking too much.” Nate said, kicking him in the back of the leg as he passed. The ghoul crumbled with a vexed, “Fuck you.” Growl the human’s way as he pranced away like he hadn’t done a damn thing. Not like Hancock disliked the taste of radiated sand or anything.

When Hancock got back to their little room he could hear the pretty tinkle of a voice coming from the bathroom. He could hear the water running, could see her beautiful nude body glistening under the droplets of water that cleaned the unholy wastes again. His dick twitched because she’d come out pure again. His little piece of heaven with big russet eyes would smell of tarberries and mutfruit from her soap. Her long red hair would fall down her gloriously pale skin with golden flecks, he’d remember why he found her so perfect.

Not that he could ever forget, it was always great to have a reminder.

The ghoul knocked on the door. He heard the water cut off moments later. “Yeah?” Rowan called out.

“Mind if I join ya? Nate shoved me down in some sand…” Hancock began. “Figured it’d save us both time.”

Rowan made a face he couldn’t see because that damn smirk was there on his face. “Fine.” She replied, turning the water back on. She was correct on the expression because his teeth were brightly exposed when he pulled the curtain back with the shrieks of the rings. It didn’t hide that twitching cock at full attention either. “It’s always so easy for you to get hard around me.” She mentioned.

The ghoul’s hands went right to the clammy plush skin of her ass the moment he got easy footing. “Kind of hard when you always look so goddamn angelic.” He growled, backing her up on the wall away from the water. He pinned her arms above her taking in the sight of her big eyes staring up at him with that familiar predator to prey simile written in them. “I wanna make you dirty in all other new ways, you’re tangling with the devil.”

His mouth went to the plump breasts taking in her hard little nipples between his teeth. He loved seeing her body on full display, able to see every scratch, bruise, and hair on her. He didn’t miss the way her back arched up high knowing he hit one of her soft spots. He chuckled dragging lazy kisses up against the sides of her neck, loving on her. His hands went to her hips following the spill of water over his rugged fingers, feeling the bones down to the little shape leading down to the familiar mound he longed for.

He was careful when he touched her, feeling her clit in slow little flicks. “Shit.” Rowan bit. Her breath sucked in like he just fucked into her at once, his bare eyebrow cocked up. “Gentle touches always undo me.” She explained softly. “It feels so much more… Careful.” She explained. He repeated the motion, watching her face, how it changed. How she came undone. Her legs trembled, she swallowed, head falling back on the tiled walls. He’d have her cum just from that alone. If he could do that with his fingers…

Rowan startled the moment his hot mouth was on her sensitive clit instead of his torn fingertips. She didn’t complain when his tongue lavished her bundle of nerves in a similar way to his finger. Her sounds were music to his ears, and she was making so many of them. “God, stop!” She panted, not really meaning it at all as she clutched onto the back of his head, rocking down on his mouth. “I’m gonna cum already, I-I can’t.” She was swallowing the groans, and he wanted to hear them.

He knew she was keeping the conversation from earlier in mind, but fuck, he didn’t care. She tasted so good, her body was crumbling into pieces right under him right now. His eyes met hers when she cupped the back of his head. “John, fuck, please baby.” He pulled back with a soft pop and she yelped, almost doubling over when her climax fell the moment his mouth retreated. She was breathing hard, as she had come. “I want you to gag me. You promised.” She reminded him.

Blinking, he looked out to the bedroom. “I wanted to taste you.” He replied eyebrow cocked up. “Ya really gonna do this whole gag thing just because of Nate?” He asked.

“No.” Rowan snapped. “It turns me on.”

He nipped at one of her lips murmuring, “Let me get washed, and we can do dirty. I’m not gonna shove sand inside you while I fuck you, doe.”

She was buzzing with excitement. Hancock encouraged her to sit in nothing but a robe, and he said he’d be quick. She was finding it hard not to touch herself. Not when the hot steam of his breath was still blowing over her clit. She was unnaturally hungry for him, craved him, needed him. She couldn’t ever reach a powerful orgasm without him, but the pressure was too much. She lay back on one elbow flicking the folds of her robe aside to reach her womanhood.

She felt around in her liquid pleasure flushing at how much had pooled and probably left a stain behind on this bed. She didn’t care. She flicked her finger over her clit a few times, just enough to lessen the pain and anxiety etching in her horny little body. The bathroom door broke open exposing light over the dimly lit room. Right to the scene of Rowan masturbating. Hancock froze, towel around his waist, another rubbing his head.

She met his eyes, not saying a thing. She expected to get scolded, instead, he tossed both materials away the moment he grabbed an actual gag from the top drawer. It was a red little ball between two straps of leather. “How long have you had that?” She asked, eyeballing it.

Hancock grinned, “I gotta the whole collection, sunshine.”

She wasted no time in parting her lips for the ball to be set between them. Instead, he kissed her softly meeting the shadow of her lips in the lightless room. When he pulled away he asked, “Are you sure?” He met her eyes, reading them.

“Yes.” She breathed.

He reminded her of the safe word, strapping it around her face. It was the prettiest sight he ever fucking saw. He was unwrapping her robe like a present, seeing her in such a sinful pose splayed back on the bed like this. He licked her navel, nibbled the skin between her cunt and stomach. Her eyes were so goddamn wide with ecstasy, he was a drug to this poor angel. He went back to ravishing her like earlier, finding her falling apart just minutes later.

She was still loud, but the mumbled sobs sounded so much prettier to him. Her body flexed when he grabbed her hips and shoved them right down, tongue picking up the pace. So did her noises. They got higher pitched, her body tensing in full despite her lower body weeping liquid pleasure everywhere. Hancock recognized the signs and welcomed it when she came with a savage jerk. He chuckled, sliding up above her to watch her twitch, convulse, whimper. Her eyes twinkled with tears of pleasure, looking to him with so much admiration it hurt.

He really was the only one who took advantage of her submissive attitude, took full advantage when she was ready for it. “Easy, easy.” Hancock soothed, brushing the back of his fingers along her cheek. He followed the track with slow soft little pecks, meeting her eyes in the dark. He pressed into her sinking between her legs and she welcomed his length with the familiar wet suction. He moaned low under his breath, and she clung to him.

He released the gag ball by hooking a finger under the strap. She gasped in relief taking big gulps of breath as he rocked inside her. He met her eyes, making sure it was okay. Hancock loved to fuck, and so did she. They fucked slow plenty of times, but this was something different. He was taking his time with her body. In, out, slow, back and forth. Gentle.

He was gonna continue this tender love.

Her heart swelled because holy shit, he listened. She hugged his neck close whimpering when he slid in full, holding himself up. “Harder,” She begged softly. “Slow and hard. Fuck me.”

He did as she asked, and Rowan fell t pieces under him again.

She didn’t know at all how much grumbled with her. They fell into many little blocks that built them, fell into something much bigger. When his cock was buried deep in her motherly womb they became something so much grander than life, than sex, it was a whole new kind of togetherness. Love, Hancock realized. Because he flaked off like chipping paint no matter what she did, or how. She kissed him and he fell into her. She touched him, he was hers.

He was balls deep in her now, and couldn’t imagine anyone better than her. Who could ever relate to this feeling? “I’m gonna cum.” He told her. He loved ruining her insides, soiling her womb for the next hours to come. She yanked him close with her strong calves and thighs - and he spilled into her like a cup of knocked over milk. She cried out, and he smirked because she liked dirty things like that. It was just as great because there was no threat of children from him.

Distantly, he could hear Nate groaning irritably.

They lay together in the afterglow with Hancock’s head on her chest, and her stroking the top of it tiredly. They said nothing. Hancock let himself be cuddled secretly wishing these things never ended. She braided her hair using the excuse of meeting the New Haven beach residents for dinner as an excuse to give him something to pull on later. “I like this.” He expressed cautiously.

Rowan’s hair nuzzled the pillow she lay on with a soft whisper. “Like what?” She asked, looking down at him.

He kissed her chest as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing. “Where we can just exist like nothing is ever wrong like it’s just us. There’s no Goodneighbor, there’s no tragic backstory we try running from.”

Rowan flinched a little.

“I love that town, but… I think I’m starting to let it dictate again. I like where it’s just…” The ghoul sat up, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “Us. You and I.”

Rowan grinned excitedly. She kissed him murmuring, “Good. Because I do too.”


	17. Chapter 17

Hancock was having the time of his life on this little vacation type deal. Nate and he actually had a beer together while Curie was talking to Rowan about something in the vault. Catching her up on old times, probably. John hadn’t seen whatever beauty Rowan did when he looked over the all black waters. Maybe it was because he grew up around it in that little ol’ shack and constantly had a brother try to drown him in those same little rivers… No thanks. Maybe it was because he loved how pretty she looked in the moonlight, and couldn’t stop staring.

Nah, the world was just that ugly to him. She was all the beauty in the world.

The ghoul looked up the moment a fold out chair flopped next to the ruined metal and cloth one the mayor sat in. “What it do?” Nate grunted when he sat, swiping the beer from the little basket between them.

Hancock made a face, tipping his long neck back for a deep swig. “Quit sayin’ shit like that. It’s like an old man tryna get hip with the times. Shit is whack.”

“Fo Sheezy.”

“Ugh.”

It was quiet for a moment, neither men having not wanting anything to say, exactly. This was one of John’s closest comrades in battle. Had seen the insides of the world’s scariest little instigator, the institute. They’d cleared it out in a hail of gunfire, blood, debris, and drugs. He’d been there when the man wept at the loss of his son because it was damned if he did, damned if he absolutely fuckin’ didn’t. He watched him go from a fish to a shark, a predator in the little wastes known as the Commonwealth.

He saw him fall in love, first with him in the most platonic way, to find himself. To learn self-defense less physically, more emotionally. How to be the sturdiest weapon in the Commonwealth, and be goddamned if he didn’t set up the Minutemen and find peace between the railroad, and the godforsaken brotherhood of steel. Hancock was one proud friend.

“You fuckin’ bastard. Ya just can’t die can ya?” John sputtered, choking on sudden laughter. Profoundly used to his friend’s random outburst, the shaggy-haired man just cocked an eyebrow up at him. “If living with you didn’t kill me,” Nate began, setting his beer down in the sand once he finished. He swallowed the rest of the malt in the back of his throat sighing out, “Nothing can.”

The ghoul chuckled at that muttering, “Ya make me proud every day. To think I got to see ya grow from a boy to a man. Call me pa. Or daddy.” Hancock shrugged, “Your preference.”

Nate threw sand on him in retaliation making Hancock glare. “You motherfucker Rowan just cleaned this coat!” He bickered, standing up in a heated stomp. He brushed himself off irritably grumbling all the while batting and beating himself with the butt of his shotgun.

Nate just smirked to himself. “Serves you for even thinking of wearing your beat to shit combat armor. You need a more affirmative, updated look. More historically accurate. The guy also owned slaves, ya know that?”

Hancock frowned. “You’re full of shit.” He faced the dark-eyed vault dweller, arms folded. “Where’d ya hear that one?”

“Elementary school? It’s literally in one of the textbooks I found searching a library for Daisy all those years ago!” Nate scoffed in disbelief, “Don’t tell me you don’t remember me kicking the door down while you and some guy were cockfighting in the bedroom just to tell you about this.”

Hancock shrugged. “I always find it entertaining when someone intrudes while I’m balls deep in people, so I for sure would have remembered it.” The ghoul sat back in his seat admitting, “I was also tripping on pretty good drugs too if it’s that one ghoul I’m thinkin’ about. One black eye, on blue?”

“Greaser hair?” Nate quipped.

“Yeah. The whole Grease musical gets up.”

“That’s the one.”

Hancock chuckled to himself noting, “Yeah, I remember now. The guy was a real freak. I only recall getting to the Third Rail that day. Nothin’ after.”

“You got there early that morning too…” Nate muttered in horror. His bushy eyebrows shot up to his hairline mouthing, “Wow…” While settling back just to listen to the outside songs for now. The moon was lowering over the nesting waters, a giant ball of light, an entertaining little rock.

He always loved how symmetrical this little rock in the sky was, he thought wild space rocks would be well… Rocky. To have bumps and mountains and lumps. But nope. Perfect.

He had a bad fear of circles.

“I think I smoked too much before I left,” Nate admitted dejectedly. He breathed out a heavy sigh feeling the actual weight around him now. “Yup.” He slumped back and Hancock burst into laughter.

“Were you thinkin’ of circles again?”

Nate nodded. “The moons shouldn’t be so perfectly round. Rocks are not like that naturally. Big scary floating space rock should not be a fuckin’ sphere.”

Hancock’s laughter carried on back up to where the women were outside the little motel. Settlers were closing shack for the night, closing up little stands. Only the bars and hospital, as well as a few other restaurants. Curie was such a soft little presence to be around once Rowan got over the prideful grudge she held against her.

They had a lot in common, and with them both being women with amazing science and mathematical skills, they could be one badass weapon. Which is why now, Rowan and she sat together going on and on about medicine, and some other way she could recreate wine with actual flavor.

Rowan’s mind was elsewhere for a moment, and it was obvious to Curie the moment she kept asking her questions, so lost in her own little reverie she never noticed when her vault dweller faded to silence. “Is something the matter?” Curie poked curiously, her pretty face full of worry. “You look upset.”

Rowan shrugged. “I don’t know,” She admitted softly. “It happens sometimes. I’ll be, well… Fine. Happy, talking, hanging out… Then it just hits. This strange huge wall of melancholy. It’s gotten worse since I realized who I really am. I know only what Nate could tell me. From what I know…”

The auburn haired woman chewed on the inside of her cheek feeling her insides crumbling in on themselves like the walls of Jericho. “And here lately, it’s been killing me. I wanna go see Valentine, see what he can tell me.”

Curie shook her head immediately. “It’s hard enough for him to differentiate between his memories and human Nick’s. Now he has Kellogg too, asking him for that could… Well, it can really mess up his cognitive functions.” She reached over to hold onto Rowan’s hand sympathetically. “I know that is hard, I cannot imagine dealing with something so tragic. Your brother - Alexander - he asks about you.”

Rowan’s skin prickled up at the mention of his name. “Oh?” Though she really had no interest in gaining insight in on him, what life he lived, something in her couldn’t help but ask. In a fucked up way, she had no choice but to love him, because as mean and nasty as he was… That was her brother. Her only father-like figure in her life. “And?” She pressed.

Curie looked puzzled a moment. She caught her lower lip between her teeth anxiously, deciding. “Just wants to know if you’re safe. When we go to visit Vault 81, he always goes out of his way to ask.” She smiled warmly. “Whether or not you want him in or out of your life - that is not for me to know or decide. It is for you to know that… He cares. Even a little.”

Rowan managed a small smile. She knew Curie meant well, but she had no ties to him. She wasn’t sure if Curie knew her hideous not-so-secret secret or not. Either way, he wasn’t her burden to upkeep now. That vault kept her under their lock and key. To remember how fragile she’d been under the heavy hands of bibles, books, studies, a whole monogram of how her life was gonna turn out. She didn’t know strength.

Not like now.

She came swimming through the nation of the US with a traveling soldier. She survived mercenaries, deathclaws, nightkin… She pulled herself up when she had to leave Boone, all of this life they made behind. She had to find the proud strong woman she knew she was. She followed her instinct and dove in with medicine. From humans - to ghouls - to super mutants and other creatures. Hancock taught her about herself, her body, sex. To find love through it.

For a little, she couldn’t think of settling down with one person. Only because love is around them, everywhere. Love is a chemistry, and there’s always gonna be more than one. She thought. She didn’t realize just how hard she fell for Hancock until her and Lucy got in a conversation going through Freeside one day. She loved Boone, she’d even gone as far as to say she was in love with him. It was infatuation. He was gone for her, but when it came to a definition of true love, well… Hancock came to mind.

Why? Because when Boone touched her, she felt sparks, but they didn’t last as long.

He had the stony attitude, but not the wit.

He didn’t laugh when she said something was pretty.

He didn’t understand why she skinny dipped in Lake Mead.

Why she swam in the water too long and was so excited to meet the courier friend, Adam. She learned a lot from him, and sex was always good. It just wasn’t the kind of love she had before. Rowan didn’t even as much think as what she and the ghoul did was love.

Now? She was starting to rethink it. “I think I’m gonna hit the hay,” Rowan told her softly. “John’s gonna be coming to bed soon. He’s gotta head back to Goodneighbor, and I think I’m gonna see if Nate needs help at the Castle for a little.”

She stretched her arms above her the too big t-shirt rolled down her toned arms only to flop back down her shoulder when her arms dropped like weights at her side. “Goodnight, Curie.”

The short-haired woman smiled at her, waving her off excitedly. “Goodbye, Rowan! Have the sweetest of dreams!”

She crawled right into her side of the bed once she lost the bra and pants, only dressed in the ghoul’s only shirt he had here besides his frock. She tucked the soft blanket up to her chin once she got settled on her stomach wondering if she ever really stopped loving him at all. Never once did she. She turned over to grab a book and her glasses from the bedside. She flicked on the lamp reading with the blankets hovering over her shoulders, supported on her elbows and forearms.

In the process, she must have fallen asleep. The next thing she knew the room was dark and a solid body were gliding in next to her. “Hancock?” She murmured. Lifting her head, she smiled when his lips met her forehead. “Did I wake ya?” He asked, smelling strongly of whiskey, beer, and the remnants of cigarettes clinging to his ruffled white shirt.

She shook her head scooting closer to him, head on his chest. He made room for her to curl into his side almost sighing as contently as she did when she figured out how to work the blanket over the two of them, and tucked around her just the way she liked. “Sorry.” Rowan murmured.

Hancock batted at her playfully. “I like havin’ ya there, kid. Ya don’t bother me.”

“Really?” She asked. “I don’t?”

He shook his head. “Nah, you’re my little doe. I marvel at ya no matter what ya do. You never fail to amaze me.”

Her smile was so cute to gawk at, watching her still very much asleep, but still sober to reality. It was crooked and lazy, and Hancock loved it. He kissed the corners of her mouth, then her forehead softly.

God, how he adored this woman. He hugged her close like his favorite teddy he had hiding in his strongroom back home. This was much better because it was a pretty plushie lady and she had nice boobies. He kissed her head again and again until her breaths became so deep and even he unintentionally matched with her.

It wasn’t until she twitched in her sleep the ghoul snorted awake drunkenly. “Huh?” He scoffed, rubbing at a nose that wasn’t there. He blinked. Right. He was a ghoul now. He looked down to see Rowan still fast asleep and fuck if Hancock didn’t just fall in love with someone as angelic as her. Her pretty little lips pouted when she slept, and her hair clung to the drool on the corner of her mouth.

He thumbed where the creases in her forehead usually lie feeling nothing but soft blank canvas. She looked like the young vault dweller he encountered years ago. Breathing out a sigh, he decided that right now, It was enough to have her here.

It was gonna be a long few weeks when they departed, he realized. Nate knew he had his Goodneighbor duties, not that Fahrenheit wasn’t entirely daft when it came to politics, he was mayor. Not her. Though she made a damn good one.

Her skin reminded him of soft silk he once touched when one of the caravans blew through the town streets one fall day. The woman next to him looked to reach to be treading barefoot through the unsafe dusty crops of the Commonwealth.

Her nose was stuck so high up in the air Fahrenheit made a bet on how many boatflies she could fit up there. But her dress was black silk, through and through. Rowan’s skin was so much plusher than that, but that was the best thing he had for a comparison.

He swore to never let his defenses fall when it came to people, but she fought tooth and nail unknowingly through his tall, dense defenses he worked so hard to put up. She had that tender heart with a beautiful smile, a giving soul, and brains far beyond what he and any form of mentats could ever think to accomplish.

He wanted to see what she turned into when she popped a few of them bitches, he thought. He stroked his fingers through her copper hair chin resting on the top of her head taking in what the fuck this whole fiasco turned into. Not that he was minding in the slightest, no. He accepted his fate and wanted it more than anything. He got too close to her presence, he couldn’t run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time you guys comment and kudos and view of read this, my heart feels really full. I’m loving the fact you guys are taking seconds and minutes out of your day to give this attention. You guys are amazing and even though I might not reply go all comments, I see them, I cherish them just as much as the others.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mama got some new weed so ya know what that means. Also, I wanna thank all of you guys that have been giving this amazing fic kudos, comments, etc. And I love every single one of them. Welcome to all the new or returning readers, and thank you for loving this piece as much as I do. The original plot I had for this has been revamped a little, so I hope you guys are ready. Also minor sexual angst in here, a little bit of pushing consensual boundaries. Nothing too harsh, but if it triggers you, ya might wanna skip over a paragraph or two. Enjoy!

Hancock loved a good high. He loved to ride it until it died like rising at the tip of your climax, feeling the tingle in your balls, but it quickly dying once reality set in like bricks in water. “Fuck…” The ghoul moaned, hips gyrating when the room went from fuzzy to solid, and he heard the sounds he fucking lusted after. He didn’t know how the two of them got to this tiny broom closet, who was near, or why they even ended up in this predicament. Rowan was on her knees her mouth making the most lucid solid sucks he’d ever heard.

They were throaty and obnoxious and fucking oh so sexy. “That’s what ‘m talkin’ about.” Slurred John, collecting her hair around his fist as her head bobbed along his scarred cock. He could feel her big doe eyes staring up at him, she loved to make eye contact when her tongue lavished right under his cock like that- “Easy, girl.” He gasped when he wept precum onto the pad of her wet cavity.

“I don’t wanna cum yet.” He chuckled, hearing her whine buzz around his cock sending him bucking deeper into her mouth. He heard her yank back with a gag for a minute trying to catch her bearings.

Hancock knew what she was aiming for and by fucking God, he was gonna let her have at it. The moan escaping her lips when she dove down to eat his cock like it was nothing thrilled him beyond belief.

He bucked involuntarily but she encouraged him by swallowing right down where her lower lip brushed his ballsack. She bobbed her head, and fuck, he shoved his hard cock so far down her tiny throat he thought she’d combust her poor little neck.

She trooped on only yanking off when her gags turned too violent, on the verge of puke. She yanked back with a throaty growl, head resting on the inside of his thigh. He felt her quaking a little.

“Hey,” Hancock purred hearing her gasping like she really couldn’t breathe. She was sniffling like she’d been sobbing, he could hear the tears in her voice. “We don’t have to do this, you can take it easy. It feels so fuckin’ good, but…” He knelt down in front of her reaching up to flick on a light nearby. It flickered and buzzed a moment flickering faint orange beams around the little place before it solidified. Hancock had very much been right.

Her cheeks were stained, her poor throat sounded hoarser than a full-grown dog’s. “I think we need to rest.” Rowan shook her head, no, because she was liking the way it felt to be used to that point a little too much.

“I didn’t use the safe word.” She protested sharply. “I wanna keep going.”

Hancock frowned. “What if I don’t wanna keep goin’? Rowan, ya can’t breathe, sister. I ain’t gonna push ya.”

“I liked it.” Rowan pleaded, feeling beyond guilty to even press the issue. There was something truly wrong with her.

She was pushing him.

You don’t do that, consent is important, and here she is begging past him saying no.

Why? Because she was fucked up. She liked not having control sometimes, pushing the border between pain and pleasure. Pushing everything down and away, because sex was great, and life was fucking shit.

Hancock could see something shattering in the corner of her russet eyes. This was their last night together for a while before Hancock had to be left back in Goodneighbor, and Nate and Rowan go on their little mission to save whatever kind of hippie commune he thought she’d be good to rule over. Hancock hadn’t told her that, nor had Nate. It was purely tested. However, this was something more. Under her soft little mushy shell, that broken woman he’d seen back in the memory den.

She was using sex with him as a coping mechanism, he realized. She likes to fuck and get high. She liked feeling the same thing he did. When he puffed and puffed and puffed until he couldn’t feel his lungs and sometimes he puked from giving himself motion sickness. Choking on his dick was her way of choking on the jet, he realized. Still, there was a bigger problem at hand. Rowan needed to speak.

She was all happy and giddy, all rainbows and butterflies. She had a dreamer’s personality, she lived to find adventures for so long. But she buried her shit so far down deep it seeped up in nonchalant ways like this. He knew it because he went through it. He still dd it.

Her demons were ones that were not hers to bear, that should never have been. Rowan knew he could see through it at that moment. All at once, her outer shell split open, and her being there with Hancock very much still exposed before her made her absolutely sick with herself.

She loved this man but used him as much as she could just because he was unaware. She loved every moment of it each and every second, it was a magnetic draw always injecting his cock deeper and deeper until she can hardly stand it. Until the self-hate fades feeling his cum shooting into her womb. She made someone cum in her, so easily, just like that… She felt satisfied because she satisfied someone else.

“I didn’t mean to push.” Her voice was trembling, and Hancock could hear the thick ball of tears coiling in the middle of her sore little trachea.

“Don’t do that, sugar.” he reprimanded. “What’s gotcha hurtin’, puddin’?”

“I…” Rowan broke, sprinting up. He was prepared to stop her, used to her antics. Hancock caught her arm to stop her. Her hair was a ginger whip slapping him across the face when she yanked free of him. She ran. She was always running.

It’s all she knew.

It’s all either of them could ever come to know.

She didn’t care she left anyone nearby to see. Thankfully it was a long hallway, and he became the master of taming his wu tang willy.

He heard the skip of her footsteps fading, and he struggled with his dumb mind to focus on moving his feet at the same time as his brain was telling them to. “Rowan!” He puffed. Fuck, he was almost tired of chasing after this girl. But why did he always? That could’ve stopped him, but he couldn’t hear her now. She was very quick, that he came to know.

She danced in battle. She’d twirl on her tippy toes sometimes when she moved with the knife. He saw the feral scowl of Kellogg when she was slashing throats. She was skilled, and they had definitely been worked on a lot.

She had a body built to be a weapon, and she had yet to know exactly who and what she stemmed from. “Quit runnin’ from…” He wheezed, falling over with his hands cupping his knees. “Runnin’ from me. I smoke too fuckin’ much.” Hancock grumbled.

There was not a single ounce of a response from the wide open space.

Rowan was out like a bullet. Where was she running? She didn’t know, but the flask wasn’t washing the taste of cock and cum from her mouth. Here she is, a daughter of a serial killer, using her body to get off because she was mortified the hole where her parents should be, the love she never ever received. Her feet pressed on down the pavements running from the beach, she was avoiding Curie’s curious glanced when she zoomed past her just a few houses out of the town.

Rowan would be damned to fall victim right now, to have a breakdown, to come face to face with the shit she kept trying to run from and-

“Smack!”

The blow was so unrequited Rowan flew back a few good feet. Her back slammed down on the ground causing her to bounce and her body shouts out to the sunset burning her skin like acid, fizzing like nuclear waste oozing from her pores.

“Fuck!” She whimpered breathlessly. She threw herself on her stomach in order to put all her strength on a balanced force to lift herself up by the forearms-

Big hands tightened in her scalp yanking handfuls worth out, creating sores under the hair still attached at the bottom of her neck. Tears of pain swelled to her eyes, and she went to shriek until something soft and feathered coated her face.

For one moment she was hovering over the dusty ground watching each particle floating out above her from their scuttle. Next thing she knew she was floating down to the ground her body crumbling down as someone detonated her like an old building. She was a puddle at this murderer’s feet.

Worst of all, she was out of earshot of anyone. The beach was blocks away, far from where Nate, Curie, and Hancock resided. The ghoul had no idea where she’d went, and now she was truly fucking herself on this. She was gonna have to get herself out of this one. Again. Her head hit something soft when she fell back, and she was floating among drug-induced sleep.

Hancock was panicking. Curie followed them, followed the ones who took Rowan. “She ran past me, I thought something was the matter.” Curies wailed, her face buried in a handkerchief her tears thick like a waterfall. “She didn’t know - they came out of nowhere. They thought I was her, next thing I know, they have her in some big man's arms lifting her away in a caravan.”

Nate held her shoulders from behind, careful to avoid the open gash stitched up on the side of her head. Hancock tutted when he first observed it. “A blunt object.” He said.

Nate knew Hancock understood his wounds considering he came from a town where you had to get ya hands dirty occasionally. “You don’t think they’re slavers do you?” Nate asked in concern.

Hancock’s hands fisted at his sides. “They would’ve taken her too, they wanted her. Curie even said do.” He stuffed a cigarette between his trembling thin lips lighting it with a forceful flick of his thumb against the flip lighter.

Nate recognized the signs of the ghoul’s anxiety, and there it was. He was gonna start pacing, get quiet. He was thinking of a plan. He’s cool under pressure despite the storm ravaging his body threatening to swallow him whole.

“Why her?” Hancock muttered. “She didn’t tell me of any enemies she might’ve had.”

“Could’ve been someone watching her since she arrived?” Nate wondered.

Hancock’s lips pressed together. “We need Nick.” He decided. “Let’s head to this shit place called Diamond City.”

Remember what Nate said about Hancock being completely cool, calm, collected, under pressure? Well… His eyes drifting to his side he could see the slouch of the ghoul’s shoulders as he sagged forward past the gates.

He only got in purely because they trusted Nate, and the fact the town owed Curie for her help when influenza came back around, and she worked tirelessly to help everyone. All while being paid less to nothing, but at least something.

Not that caps was ever a problem with Nate’s military status. The fact remains, he could get in. The moment Hancock blew into the synth’s office the detective pounced on him. “Mayor, have you heard the news about Doctor Amari?”

Taken back by the question, the mayor shook his head slowly. “Been a little busy, Nicky. Kinda tryin’ to find where an innocent girl was taken to.” The response was so heavy with venomous sarcasm it made Nate flinch back a little. “So no, forgive me if I’m not updated on my town’s whereabouts.”

“That’s a shame coming from a mayor. Goodneighbor had a raid a few nights ago. They didn’t touch a single settler. They swarmed the memory den,” The detective raced over shuffling the stacks of manila folders flapped open on his desk. “They came in looking for information on Kellogg, somethin’ about an old debt, wanting proof the guy is really gone.” He leaned forward with his arms braced down on the face of the desk. “And somehow, some way…”

The synth’s chilling orbs met Hancock's charcoal ones and he almost flinched from how hard it was. “She mentioned Kellogg’s daughter, and that was ritual enough. Swabbed her up like DNA, took off with her.” Hancock sucked in a sharp breath feeling the kick in his gut for the umpteenth time today. What kind of mayor was he if he couldn’t be there to protect his town, his people, Goodneighbor’s reputation?

It was a home of the free - land of the brave, real actual tough shit. And here he was fucking a pretty dame and shooting up so much the past week had been a flash of boobs, booze, and booty. Here he is now, defenseless, dumb, stupid. Nate reached out to comfort him but Hancock snapped up.

“Help us.” He demanded. “You’re the only one who could solve this, find someone to take her place temporarily. Our town needs a medic-”

“I will!” Curie piped in with a chirp. “I have done my research and classes with Amari. I shall gladly take her place until she returns.”

That’s Curie, John remarked with a spiteful bite in his head, always the fucking optimistic type.

“That’s solved,” Nate said. “But the trail? Where do we start?”

All eyes were on Nick. “They said they owed a debt?” The mayor responded with grave despondency

Nodding, “To Kellogg.” He muttered.

There was a heavy silence flooding the room now.

“Fuck.” Hancock cursed. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He kicked over a large chair seething from the tip of his brittle toes to the top of his soft little head. Fuck, of course, he had to be this much of a fuck up - Fahrenheit was gonna fuckin’ kill him. Oh God, what people must think of him. How scared Rowan must be.

He yelled out in frustration, “What the fuck is anyone gonna do about this situation?” He threw a look so intently shadowed it mortified them into silence. “I’m a shit mayor, I can’t abandon them after a time like this, but I love Rowan, and I need to be there to know she’s safe.”

It was the first time he said it out loud, and he honestly wished he said it before all this. All he could think of is the worst possibility of finding her corpse, so beautifully drawn in an anguish, body rotting. He became desensitized considering death, war, murder, and drugs was an active part of his life now. The thought of her hurt in any sort of a way… The ghoul shuddered, leaning his back near the wall.

Nate and Nick were watching him watching his dark eyes glass over with a fury unmatched by any of theirs. Nate could relate to losing a loved one considering he lost Nora, and Curie had given him scares a few times.

The vault dweller turned to look at his wife busy making sense of whatever case the synth had been busy with. Feeling his gaze, she looked up with curiosity written in her face. Finding his soft expression, she managed a small smile for him.

Linking their fingers together, he kissed her head softly. “Why now? Do you know who would even as much as think of something like this?” He asked, distracted when Curie’s small arms linked around his stiff middle.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” Nick said, a dry smirk peering on his usually readable mask. “Looks like a few scientists in the institute found a way to survive. That’s exactly what they claim for themselves.”

If there was anything all of them hated, it was that group. Hearing the name shot electric currents through the vault dweller’s heart. Hancock looked to Nick with eyes dark and skeptical. “That’s a bold statement, Nick.” His voice was laced with ice colder than any glaciers. “I ain’t doubted you much in the past, but that’s a far throw even for you.”

“And a right one.” He explained. “Is it so weird we still stand after a nuclear blast? Multiple?”

Nate himself hadn’t put too much thought into it. “Are… You saying-”

“There are survivors,” Hancock concluded with finality. He curled his fingers into a fist his teeth exposed in a snotty sneer. “Of course. Why would we have any peace around this fuckin’ place?” He began to pace, the anger making his shoulders tremble, and his blood rush through his veins.

Where they’d once been cold and ice, he felt lava and fire. He felt the thrill of lust without sexual desire, he found the bliss in the bitter fury strangling him.

Nate, on the other hand, was worried there was one last trick up Shaun’s sleeve. Seeing Nick’s anxious expression, something told him he agreed too.

She expected pain when she came to, more than the emotional scarring she buried under her trauma and the telling pain in her chest she'd been struggling to breathe. She should be upset she’s woken up in a dark cold place, but that’s nothing compared to the tightness in her chest.

She pats the dirt around her, searching for a glue, to find out where she is. She hadn’t been locked away since her days in the vault. And her anxiety was peeking when she felt along a cement wall scratching up against her sore palms.

She couldn’t see anything. Even with patting her fingers against her nose, nothing. Pure black. “Shit.” She whimpered, suddenly feeling like she was thirteen again, being put on punishment. She remembered being ambushed, thrown into the middle of a group of men. She thought she caught sight of a familiar man in sunglasses, but figured anyone looked similar when the sun was always out full force.

Then they drugged her. Chloroform, she knew that well enough. Still, one of the easiest chemicals that they were still able to create in this post-nuclear war society. She wasn’t chained down, she took that as a good sign. Still, she didn’t know how much time she had left in this place. Who had her? How she could pull herself out of this situation. She knew a lot about surviving this cold ass place but knew she couldn’t sit and wait for her male rescuers. No.

As much as she loved Hancock, there was no telling how long it took them if they knew. He’d come looking for her because he’d stopped her from leaving before. All because she wanted to be dramatic and run from facing the problem. The story of her life. And she must be some lovesick fuck because here she was not knowing if she was gonna live or die, and she was worried about a ghoul with a big dick that might love her back.

She lay back in the dirt throwing an arm over her eyes purely just because standing was too much effort. Silence. No words, no light, nothing. Blind and deaf despite the scuttle of her feet occasionally. Curling up all alone, her chin rested on her knees, tears brimming her eyes. What could they possibly want with her? “Hello?” Her voice echoed back at her, rebounding off the corner of the room to taunt her like little ghosts.

“Anyone?”

Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there is the start of the very beginning. I hope this is making sense, and the characters are up to par. I hope you guys enjoyed, leave kudos and comments or don't, either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this <3\. Stay tuned for more interesting things.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this update!! I hope i know what I'm doing. Thank you guys as always for all the comments and kudos I'm so glad people besides me like this story this much lol

Fahrenheit stood at his side on the balcony, a silent statue radiating a type of calm helping them to expose a plan on rescuing this little princess. “We need to be clear minded.” The redheaded woman leaned her palms down on the rugged wood overlooking the town watching drifters walking in and out of the doors.

“We gotta treat her like a ransom, trade one for another, take it down from the inside.” Her eyes slid over to the ghoul, lower back leaning up against the banister.

His dark black eyes sparkled with the surprisingly crystal clear reflection of the porch the two of them stood over. The only difference was, in this picture, there was emotions so deep it felt like she was diving into thirty feet pools.

Hancock was a deeper person than he came to be. Maybe because she was a young raider looking for a way out of the rings of sex and drugs. She stumbled up on the ghoul while he was practicing with Kleo, and Daisy.

It was hot out that day, unusually for January. She was struggling with withdrawal to the point she felt like she was falling apart with each step. Sweat poured from her scalp, spewing sweaty hot water from every pore creating a river. Her muscles ached, her eyes were dry from crying, she needed a fix. She fell to her knees following the laughter and guns. She once planned to rob them the moment she caught sight of a freshly bright crimson duster in the winter morning.

She all but slid to her knees the moment she reached the feet of the black boots. Blinking a few times, He was human the first time they met. John measured her up with an expression of worry, sympathy, and amusement.

He was gorgeous, she noticed. If she could fuck a man - she’d do very bad things to him. His crystal blue eyes twinkled with excitement when his lush lips curled up into a crooked smirk that struck her inside. It made her laugh. Laugh, because fuck, she was falling apart, but this guy wasn’t gonna kill her.

She was far too gone to even think of robbing him. “Do you have any chems?” Fahrenheit asked fumbling with the torn rags she wore for clothes. Her leather armor was really just jerky bound by ropes and twine she found, or carried with her if it didn’t fall off. She couldn’t do it.

“You look like shit, sister.” The man set his shotgun at his waist kicking a first aid kit her way. “Straight from Goodneighbor, and trust me, it’s strong.” He flopped down on the other side of the bag drawing a knee up to his chest, watching her closely.

She was young, he realized. Her hair was long, parts of it knotted like a nest one one side, a few stuck together by mud, or dreaded. Her eyes were heavily shadowed, and body sweat so much he feared she’d be malnourished.

“Please tell me I don’t owe you a blow job for this.” Fahr groaned when she hit the jet inhaler completely forgetting about the tremors that once hit her body. She yanked in draws anxiously, leveling it out once she felt the familiar tickle in her lungs.

Hancock smirked, “I’d be all for it usually,” He explained, lighting a cigarette. His long light brown hair stayed pulled back in a ponytail that fell down his back. He looked like something straight out of a history book, but… But it worked. “Something tells me you and I have different preferences.”

“How’d you guess?” She giggled a little, surprised, but forever grateful. She still didn’t get the taste of cum out of her mouth from last time.

“I’m a flamin’ bisexual myself, but I ain’t gonna ever use someone like that. What’s your name?”

“Fahrenheit.” She smiled a little at him. A little boastful sign of tolerance, hospitality.

“John Hancock.”

He erupted in giggles again, and so did he.

From that moment on, she followed him into war and battle. They together established the biggest, most baddest town in the Commonwealth. It was enough to keep anyone happy for the rest of their days. Looking to what they built, back to the man forlornly staring into the abyss of his thoughts spilled out on the floor, stone cold sober, wishing for a way out. It was a pitiful sight.

She knew him well enough to understand the ghoul’s emotional being without him having to say anything. “Nick said the Institute…” He grumbled, pacing inside to look through a binder he had holding poorly punched scrap together. “Where do you think they’re operating?” He was searching for his copies of the Brotherhood’s records of the inside of the place before Nate blew it up.

He was trying to understand how a blast that big, could have survivors when they took it by surprise. Fuck an evacuation alarm, Nate took every poor soul with it. He thought. However, John did find it odd that Shaun was suddenly so sick when the peek of the commonwealth’s civil war sprung out. He was a damn smart man, cancer was something you only had to worry about if you caught it in time with a few radaways and stimpaks. Guess that was the trick.

However… He fingered the lesions dug into the spines and pores of the pages. Chewing on the inside of his cheek he followed the body count, compared to records kept of everyone there. Elder Fuckwit said something about some bodies being lost in the salvage they were unable to touch due to the obvious radiation.

It was destroyed by a nuke, after all.

“A few hundred didn’t survive. Who’s to say Shaun didn’t evacuate with them?” He asked, lifting his eyes under the weight of his hat.

Fahrenheit tilted her head, but nodded. “Didn’t Nate mention something about a kid when he took down the institute? Something about a synth?”

“Yep.” He nodded, looking at the number. Six hundred and fifty living in that underground ant mound, “Not all were accounted for. Some obviously got free, but Shaun… He’d been sick.”

“Coulda been a synth.” Fahrenheit said simply.

Something curling around John’s loins were strangling his insides enough to make him visibly gag into the sleeve of his shoulder. He steadied his breath because fuck, not only would he be rescuing Rowan, Nate would have to face a demon he tried to come over. He knew how it felt to have the past come and eat your ass with ragged razor teeth. Taking notice, the guard walked over shutting the book on his hand still braced on it like Rowan.

“Let’s leave it. We’ll talk to Nick when Nate and him come back.” She walked over knuckling John’s chin with a small warm smile. She took a swig from her flask passing it over to the ghoul. He took it with a grateful smile losing himself in the burning cinnamon coating his throat.

He took a swig for him, one for Rowan, one for Nate, and the last for him. Because fuck, he was furious and had nowhere to aim the poison. All the while, he worried for the woman trapped somewhere, not knowing if she was alive or dead….

Light. Her forearm brushed the dusty grown when Rowan lifted herself on weak forearms that shivered like a poor child in the cold. She’d stopped screaming when the black and silence muted her words.

Crazy how you lose track of time after the third day. She had no idea what time of day it was, what words sounded like. “There.” A shadowed figure presenting itself behind the binding stark white of atmosphere these phantoms came from barked, pointing her way. Two more figures came in a v formation swooping up under her arms and lifting her effortlessly.

She had no more strength to fight, she hadn’t had anything to eat and drink and she smelled of her own urine. Locked away like a mutt, she was so disgusting. “How long had she been in there?” Said a woman in black holding her right. She couldn’t focus, her eyes were having such a hard time adjusting. She didn’t know if she ever slept. She couldn’t tell when she was awake or asleep, it was all the same.

The gruff man on her left sneered in disgust when he looked down at her. His eyes were shielded by glasses, his voice monotone besides the cold look upon the black man’s face. “A week, ma’am.” He noted. “She looks like shit.”

Ouch. Rowan flinched a little muttering, “You’d look bad too if you forgot what life is.”

There was silence.

Then she realized, she hadn’t moved her mouth, and her cognitive functions weren’t working because she forgot how to move her mouth for a moment. Solitude killed brain cells, muted her. She was worried of speaking when her mouth popped open and she yanked in a breath so sharp it felt like she was choking.

Her throat tickled uncomfortably making her sputter and gasp. The people in black stopped to check on her, but she couldn’t see or speak to tell them what was happening.

“Are you okay ma’am?” Said the black one, his face unreadable. She felt like a lab rat under the microscope running tests on her.

Rowan whimpered once she managed to catch her breath, vision swimming from how much energy that random coughing attack took from her. “Forgot to breathe.” She wheezed with gravel in her lungs.

She swayed to the left falling into him right before her head hit the ground, and she saw black. X6 looked to his colleague, O4, and frowned. “I don’t think father realize she was here. Logs must have been off.” He lifted the foul smelling woman, frowning with a rugged groan. “Wastelanders baffle me. They could be so much better.”

She was floating for a minute. She was hurting too, something was burning her veins. Rowan sputtered awake with a thrilled yell of fever cramping up her muscles. Fuck, it hurt, “Hancock!” She shrieked, suddenly pinned down by a weight unseen. It lasted for a few more seconds before Rowan’s shuddered down with her back on the hard metal table under her.

Through the blur of pained tears her wide eyes turned to take in the shadowed medical area of a… Vault? Blinking a few times, she rolled her head to see who and what was on her left and - “Rowan?” Alex knelt down by her head, petting her hair back. He looked so much older than she remembered, and her heart fell to her stomach. Why was he here?

She swung her arm to shove him back when the familiar burning thrashed through the arm her IV was attached to and she fell into a fit of pained tears again. Alex was hurting her again, why? Why was she here? Where was she? Back at Vault 81? Alex continued petting her head back tsking, “It’s the radaway. You were really ill, and you can’t stay here all contaminated.” He continued, turning away to let her suffer just like always.

Her russet eyes felt too big for her head, she couldn’t feel her toes, she was cold on the outside, but burning hot on the inside. This was more than radaway. She’d had it before, she was a licensed doctor.

He was drugging her - they, whoever they were who took her. “Please get this out of me.” Her voice was so hoarse and rugged she couldn’t recognize herself. Her body was being ravaged by fight, every ounce of endurance in her frail body going to her arms in an attempt to shove it out.

Alex didn’t as much as turn his back, but continued stirring up whatever concoction he was brewing. He knew she was weak, her body in desperate needs of nutrients. She needed a bath too. She was in a thin material barely covering her ass.

She could feel where the thin material stopped cupping her ass and where her plush flesh met the ice cold steel under her. “Where am I?” Rowan asked, unable to help the tears running down her cheeks. “And why are you here? Why are you hurting me?”

It was a stupid childish question, even for someone her age. But just like that, the past four years and odd days of growth was shed by his hands. He chuckled to himself a little. “We are the remnants of the Institute.” He continued. “You see, Vault 81 and them, we made a deal. We offer them help and shelter, if they offer their knowledge onto us…”

Turning on his heel with a glass filled with the light blue liquid, Alex stood to her left sticking in a straw for her. “We have an alliance, and we help whoever. Kellogg owed the Institute, and while he may not be here, you’re the next best thing to offer.”

It was bone chilling to hear the monster from your childhood looming over you with power again. Comparing you to nothing more than a debt. “If you’re gonna kill me, do it.” She seethed, glaring at the cup when he passed it to her.

She didn’t wanna drink it, the strength in her body was deplenishing and fuck it looked good, so good. Her throat was dry like sandpaper and - She slurped it down within seconds, unable to stop herself from tasting something besides piss and spit.

She gasped when Alex retreated to refill it. She felt fine, besides the occasional pain in random parts of her. “I don’t know Kellogg, I’m no good. Alex, you raised me, you know this.” Auburn eyebrows pulling together in the middle she whispered, “Where does the institute hide here? Nate is always in and out of here-”

“Enough questions. You know who you are now, Doctor Amari fessed up. We changed the underground where all the viruses were. The Institute was ever so gracious to help us expunge it from ever spurring up again. We found Curie’s cure, and well.” He shrugged, “That’s their base. That’s where you’ll be. Serving them.”

Blinking a few times, Rowan muttered, “Excuse me?”

“Kellogg owed the Institute from expelling their information. They found enough leftover data from his home in Diamond City, and from Doctor Amari told us about you, Nate, and that detective's weird tie to your father. It was enough, you’d finish out the rest of his contract.”

Alex sighed out heavily muttering, “Sadly, we know you’re spineless. You think like a savage, and could never take a life for something so noble. So, you’ll be here. Serving them, father, with whatever they need.”

Didn’t Nate destroy them? Didn’t Shaun die?

She opened her mouth to ask another question, but he shook his head placing his palm over her mouth. “I told you too much already.” he told her with his dark eyes flashing with low warning. “I raised you, but this is new. You know who you are. We have no ties, we aren’t siblings. We’re strangers. But I love you because for a long time, I had to. I don’t want to see you hurt, believe it or not.”

She glared up at him and actually spat out a laugh under his palm. He clenched her jaw tightly in his husky fingers cutting her chuckle into one of pain. Yeah, that was kinda stupid of her. “But I will do it if I have to, I think we both know that. They will kill you, they are determined. Don’t fight them.”

“I can get out of here.” She said triumphantly.

“Not this go round.” Alex told her. He wrenched his hand away stepping back. With a bright flash of blue light, she was alone, and she came to a horrifying realization…

This room had no windows.

No door.

She was alone with a needle in her arm, a bed, and a stray chalkboard with her name written on it. She erupted in effortless screams again, begging for mercy once her IV began dripping the burning medicine again.

Nick was worried undoubtedly about what this meant.The Institute was still around, and his frail worries of the place popping back up again hadn’t been as stupid as he once interpreted it to be. However, every case he came upon had an ending.

Had a person who fit the motives, DNA, and- “Son of a bitch.” Nick muttered dejectedly. It caught his secretary’s attention making Ellie look up. Valentine rubbed the tip of his fingers into his temples grumbling negatively, “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

Walking over to sit at the other side of his desk, the mousy haired lady prodded him with a pencil tapping it into his arm. “What’s going on?” She asked softly.

Looking up at her with worried pungent optics, they whizzed when he zoomed in on her eyes, to get his point more across. The dread set in Ellie’s stomach when he spoke again. “The institute is still around, but they stooped low enough to buy mercenaries. People from the Commonwealth no one would ever expect to be working for them. Every case was random, every story was different, but the time span… it’s so similar. It’s a random, yet set pattern.”

Grabbing his notebook he jotted down a few notes to help him explain, “They’re set a month apart. Off by a day, each time. They’re operating in a smaller operation because there’s only been two kidnappings, or murders. Synths. Leaving synths behind while they have the real bodies.” He threw his pencil down with a rugged yell. “ _Fuck!_ ”

The last round of Rowan’s IV when Alex returned was some kind of sleep aid he’d said. He stood by making sure it didn’t give her too much, or too little of it. When she came to, she wasn’t alone. She got so excited to see blinding light, she thought she was tasting the outside again. The only thing was, she wasn’t feeling the familiar humming warmth of radiation hugging her skin. She was lucid when she sat up. No pain.

No physical memory of the acid from her IV.

She checked over herself finding herself dressed in a sleek black vault suit, her hair smelling freshly clean. She threaded her fingers through her auburn hair noticing the twinkle of golden blond under these lights when a knock came to her door. She frowned a little, realizing that just because she felt and look good, didn’t mean she was out of danger yet.

“Yes..?” She called out cautiously. The door slid open exposing an elderly man with salt and pepper hair, and eyes so familiar it made her stomach sick. This was Shaun, because those eyes…

Those were Nate’s eyes.

She’d recall them anywhere. He resembled him, but he had to take after his mother more though. “Hello, Rowan. I’m sorry for our rude introduction, the mercenaries screwed up the delivery process, and whatnot. I’m sorry for that.”

Like yeah, sorry for nonchalantly leaving you on your own for a week while being so inconspicuously close. You pissed and shit on yourself with no food, water, no sort of anything. It’s okay, let’s blame it on paperwork.

Bullshit.

She was a pawn in their game of chess, she wasn’t a person. She was a wastelander, and a way for these scientists to get their solid rocks off at the thought of milking this shit for as long, and as well as they could.

Her narrowed eyes answered his too calm exterior. “We hope we can make this as accommodating as we can. We can’t promise comfortability because our current space is so small, but you got your own rooms. Most servants don’t get that,” Shaun snapped. “so be grateful.”

“I’ll be grateful when you let me out of here.” Rowan growled between her clenched teeth. “I have nothing to do with Kellogg -”

“It’s everything to do with Kellogg, and everything to do with you helping someone who betrayed this very organization.” Shaun continued, overriding her protest. “You will serve us in continuation of your father’s contract. Since you’re so good with medicine, Rowan Fairchild, you’ll tend to one of our newer smaller medical bays for little things. We’re gonna be busy with an influx of imports between us, and one of our other settlements. We’ll have a lot of traffic.”

“What makes you think I’m gonna continue on with this?” Rowan laughed in his face. “I know all about you, I grew up in this vault. I’ll find a way out of here.”

Shaun frowned a little. “I’m guessing you haven’t seen the new piece of decoration on your skin have you?” He asked.

Rowan bolted up running over to the nearest mirror in her little bathroom standing at the side. Around her neck was a cute sleek silver collar. To the eye it’d be a cute piece of fashion jewelry. “What is this?” Rowan began slowly. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

Shaun waltzed up behind her meeting her large eyes in her reflection. “It’s a way to make sure you behave. You wanna live on the outside like the wild,” He clicked a button and pain seared up from the choker making her fall to her knees choking for help. “You’ll be treated like a filthy mutt.” He stopped it, cutting her off immediately. Rowan wanted to sob, but she was seizing from leftover bolts.

“That’s not the highest. I can rug it to explode anytime.”

“You gave me a slave collar.” Rowan gasped, her knees knocking together from how hard they trembled. She was being held captive under Vault 81, and no one would have a way to reach her.

She thought of Nate and Curie walking overhead, having no clue they’re mingling with pure evil. They were being betrayed. Oh God, Hancock. She’d never ever see him again. Hitching a breath, tears formed in her eyes. “Send me back. I don’t want to be here. I won’t speak of this to anyone.”

Her world was rupturing. “You might as well kill me.” She told him. “I refuse to help.”

Shaun sighed irritably, the corner of his mouths twitching in agitation. “You won’t have a choice. By the end of the next two weeks, you’ll be happy where you are and see just how well you have it. We are not afraid to protect what we worked so hard to reserve.”

Rowan ran for him then. She swept a leg right into his ankles, kicking her legs up to deliver a kick to his throat when he fell, but he skipped right over her low kick. Instead, he grabbed her by the legs throwing her away in a back flip. She whacked her head down on the wall across from him with a pained moan feeling her breath leave her lungs in one vial swoosh. Slumped back on the wall, Shaun stepped forward.

Rowan hooked her arm around the leg of the bedside table lifting herself up on the bed rushing at him with all her might. She dodged a punch aiming for the little black remote in his hand. She kicked it, but he kept a tighter hold. Her body froze like someone threw ice in her, and she was on fire but not able to move. Her hair standing on end, she fell straight like a stiff plank before the electrocutions started.

Eyes rolling into the back of her head, mouth foaming with spit, Shaun stood over her, watching. Watching while she writhed wordlessly in pain.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hella musing for this. sorry for slower updates this stoner here has met her match, and is currently trying to balance work, life, boyfriends, and self care and whew is it fucking hard. but here my loves, some more good angsty shit for ya.

A week.

That’s how long she’d been gone before the group even made any plans.

And they wouldn’t have even thought of making the first step had it not been for a certain railroad agent.

“I don’t have much time to explain.” Deacon rushed, suddenly appearing outside of Hancock’s bedroom door at three AM. The ghoul was running on a binder, and honestly, he wouldn’t be sober enough to make good judgments. That was until he heard her name. “The institute is back, don't ask how I got in,” He said, sort of in a rush. It was a panic mostly uncommon on the liar’s face.

His sunglasses were crooked, his shirt tucked from his torn and bloodied jeans. He looked a mess, and his wig was a little crooked. Snorting over the cigarette in his lips, the ghoul asked as he tongued the butt to hold it in place, “What fought you and won?” He asked. Usually, Deacon would banter back, but the serious look on the spy’s face made John tense.

“What do you know?” He demanded.

“They have Rowan, and holy shit you won’t believe the plot twist of this one.” Deacon laughed,, a bitter chilling chatter coming from the man. “But my cover was blown, I was able to get out how I came in by jacking one of the institute trader’s teleportation device. We only have a certain amount of time before they shut this frequency down, so we gotta book it.”

Stumbling like a fool creating ruckus through the borderline broken floor sent crumbles of ceiling and wood raining down on Nate’s face as he slept downstairs. Huffing, he sat up spitting out drywall grumbling, “Fucking asshole, can’t even sleep…” The moment Nate threw his feet down on the cold wooden floors his door threw open revealing a panting, armed to the hilt, Hancock. He had three guns on both sides of his hips, a knife tucked in his boots, hat, and waist.

“We gotta go, Nate.” He rushed out, hectic anxiety spewing across the ghoul’s face. It was one so stern and sure, the lone wanderer knew better than to question.

Sleeping next to him, Curie looked from Hancock to Nate. She knew what this meant. She sat up on her knees laying a dainty hand on the burly man’s shoulder. Nate turned to kiss her swiftly. “Go, rescue her.” She whispered. “But please, do be safe…”

Shaking his head, he fisted her hands in both of his. “I’ll be back, I’m not bringing you with me, I almost lost you to Shaun once…” He kissed each knuckle of Curie’s motherly hands, following the veins up under her wrists.

Their eyes met and she kissed him so sure, so hard, but finally. She hopped off the bed fixing the small dainty black satin dress fitting her fairy-like body. She helped throw things together in a bag for the group while Nate armed himself to the hilt.

Hancock was antsy to get this going, to figure out a sure-fire plan. “How long do ya think we got to get back in?” Asked John, puffing away on a cigarette. His tongue traced the damp filter, already yanking out another one form his pack with a familiar twist of his fingers. Staying cool and collected under pressure, Deacon noted. Had it not been for the cigarettes he was despairingly toking on submissively.

“Chill out. A solid two days.” The spy said with a crooked smile. “Three if we cut you from the equation.”

Rowan was in so much pain, unwilling to submit to the temporary order. She sat in solitary for attempting to get out with Deacon. They had a plan, a full plan… She knew Deacon was a lot of things, she’d met him in DC once or twice. So when he said, “I’ll be back…” She knew that was a projected lie, and she was royally fucked. Especially when she was near the teleporter all alone, surrounded to the waist in white coats.

She’d been so close, so so fuckin’ close… No one knew, no one suspected. So she thought. “Come to get some.” She panted, wielding the bat in her hands. She ran forward to bash one guard’s head in and the familiar flash of white light popped up behind her eyelids when father broke through the crowd with the remote in hand. She fell forward crippling the woman to her knees.

Her hair was like fire against the blood-soaked white floors, but the pain she felt when the collar exploded in her body was nothing compared to the toes injected into her side when she had no choice but to surrender. The collar jetted off leaving her vomiting the water in her stomach. Forced to lay her head in it when her wrists were cuffed behind her back. “We’re not gonna stand a chance with her,” Shaun muttered like she was nothing more than cattle.

“I fuckin’ told you.” The doe-eyed woman spat with such hatred despite the wariness aching in her joints. “You might as well kill me. I’ll kill every motherfucker in here, I feel no regret. You’re terrible people.” Rowan laughed.

Father stepped forward standing just two inches over her. He tilted her chin up with a deceivingly gentle finger on the side where no watery puke coated it. They shared a long look. She saw not a hint of anger or malice in it, so when he brought his hand up she didn’t brace for impact.

He smacked her solidly across the face, the guard’s arms tightening her arms behind her like two bulbous zip ties. “You seem to forget who we have in here.” Shaun taunted, staring into the molten emerald fury in Rowan’s eyes.

She chuckled. “You don’t really have her. I was in the dungeons the other day, remember?” Rowan muttered, keeping the strength in her knees despite the cramping tremors whispering, waiting, wanting to yank her down.

Shaun motioned with his head for her to follow. The guard walked her forward. She memorized the track they were trekking. He was taking her towards the back where Curie had been. She hadn’t been near there since she been in there. Considering that’d been her hiding spot not too long ago, she kind of longed to see it. Even if it wasn’t what it used to be.

She recalled how small it was, enough for one person.

Her stomach plummeted like a slope.

“You kept her locked up in here. Away from people.” rowan realized, snapping her eyes up to him. Her lashes shadowed her flushed cheek when she glared at him. “You’re fucked up for this, Shaun.” She spat. “You kept her where people couldn’t hear her.”

“Specifically because we told you, her survival depended on you. We had to move her here because she was getting too loud, and we’re not trying to blow our cover, you see.” Shaun placed his hand over the scanner outside. It blinked red a few moments highlighting each of their faces of the dark crevice of titanium walls.

Rowan sure hoped to fuck he wasn’t serious. She didn’t believe the whole jest that maybe hadn’t been one after all. Rowan anticipated the worst - and got it. Inserting the password in the terminal across from the small cage, Shaun nodded for the guard to take her forward.

Doctor Amari was barely recognizable. Her usually pinned up hair was slick and knotted with oily roots, but dry ends. Her eyes were swollen shut, bandages on every exposed part of her that wasn’t black and blue.

She wanted to scream, but couldn’t find her voice to shriek. She looked like a swollen corpse. The only sign she was still alive was the still even, if not hitched breaths she took. “What have you done, Shaun?” She whispered, horrified. She shot him a look, demanding something. “She’s got nothing to do with me, she hardly knows me. Please don’t risk her over me.”

With his arms folded behind his back, Shaun apprehended her with no regard whatsoever. “You killed my men.” He reminded her. “Life for life. Eye for an eye.”

“No!” Rowan gasped immediately. “Kill me, I serve nothing for you.” Rowan pleaded, kicking about. She didn’t care if he took her life, Amari had everything to lose. Rowan had only one thing - her life.

And Hancock, but at this point, she knew she wouldn’t be getting back to him anytime soon. It wasn’t doubting him, it was just the fact they were more fortified.

The fact Deacon got in and out twice, but wouldn’t be able to luck his way to a third, told her she was screwed. It was only a matter of time before they track him - whatever signal interceptor he snagged, and cut it off.

If they somehow came back, they’d all die here. Which brings her back to her original plot… “Please leave her alone. Send her back, please kill me.” She begged.

Shaun shook his head saying softly, “You’ll have your time. We know this plan you set up with O6, who is also known as Deacon.” He spat. “A traitor of the institute, You knew was knowingly here and didn’t report… You planned sabotage.”

He stepped into the cellar walking past the struggling woman. She watched his back when he fished out a pistol from the holster in his pants.

“No, Shaun, father, stop.” She whimpered, borderline hysterical. “Please, Shaun, please.” She gushed emphatically. “I’ll do anything, please leave her alone.”

He turned to look at her mortified face, taking in every flicker of emotions rushing through her pretty youthful face. “Why? I have no problem killing her, just like I won’t have an issue killing my own father when he returns.”

“Deacon is a liar.” Rowan laughed humorlessly. “He’s not coming back, I’m stuck here. I know you have no reason to believe me, but please.” She felt her knees give in then. She buckled, but the man behind her held her weight. “Please leave her be. Take mine, you devils can have my soul.”

There was a long drawn out silence. He was debating. The revolver remains up in the air pointed to her, finger hooked around the trigger, a promise. He didn’t look at her but kept his eyes on Amari who seemed completely awake now.

Though exhausted, she curled up on herself tighter. “Please kill me.” She begged.

It was so foreign and heart-stopping hearing someone as strong as her begging for death. It broke Rowan right in half all the while.

He lowered the gun, and Rowan waited for the impact. Instead, he walked forward cupping her chin. “Solitary.” He decided. “You seemed to enjoy your days there. You’ll live out the rest of your days like a mutt.”

She whimpered, knowing death was gonna be a drawn-out cold blanket. She didn’t resist anymore. “Please take this off me, then.” Rowan tipped her chin back exposing the silver choker on her neck.”I don’t wanna die with this thing.”

Shaun thought for a harrowing moment, one that made Rowan’s life before her eyes. He stepped forward sticking a lock right in a place under her ear. The guard released her cuffs in time for her to prepare for the sharp removal of the electric needles embedded in her body.

She clenched her fingers onto the sleeves of his lab coat when the metal spike retreated from her skin. It felt like she could finally breathe without the needles thrusting into her virgin throat taking over an area it didn’t belong in.

And just like that, the reality was gone again. She was free to breathe and to exist, to remain, but in space where she’d be forgotten. Back in the black hole to starve and wither because that’s all she was and is good for.

The last thing she saw was the cold lurking in Shaun’s dark eyes, seeing Nate’s. Inside the black abyss was an extra chill forever sprinting through her spine recalling her friend’s eyes forever haunting her until she died.

Hancock understood the overwhelming compensating silence stemming from Nate. He had to face his son again, to figure out if they were still up to their old shit again. Deacon flanked his left shoulder, John on his right, with Nick between them standing in v formation to flank in case anything attacked.

“How long they been under the vault?” John asked, looking to Deacon. The spy took his time in consideration swirling around whatever cane he used in disguise for himself here

“How long has Rowan been gone?”

“Four years. Almost five.” Came Nate’s steel reply. The trio continued into the slender cornhole walls of the familiar vault underground. It was bigger than John remembered it being when he and Nate cleared out the diseased mole rats back when they first came.

When he first met Rowan. His stomach clenched uncomfortably thinking of her in here being someone’s bitch. Her fight or flight instinct was always more on the passive side, but he hoped to God she remembered to get her hands filthy.

He honestly loved her, and he was filled to the hilt with rage. His hands tightened on the pistols on each side of his hip for when they exposed themselves to the enemy. Nick watched him and Nate, glancing from one to the other.

It was like watching two broken men in soliloquy watching each other’s backs while their pasts come back to sneak up on them. It was obvious when Nate was deep in thought, he was more action than words.

Deacon broke forward using his stolen ID card to slide through the scanner. “Before we go in, anyone wanna say their final words?” He turned to face the group with a lazy crooked smile that did more harm than good.

Hancock narrowed his eyes at him stating in a monotone voice, “You couldn’t choose better words?”

Nate shot him a warning look which Hancock returned over the cigarette he held between his teeth since his poor tongue ached from holding it so much.

Valentine put a hand on both of their shoulders, always a steady presence despite the fact Hancock wanted nothing more than to fall into pieces biting at the edge of anxiety to get to the woman he lusted, loved, and desired after.

The person he found his calm in, the one who got him just as drunk as whiskey, with an ass that drugs him better than any chemical combo. “I think it’s time to play heroes,” Nick announced, reloading his bullets and spinning the barrel before locking it in place.

He fished out a cigarette like an old school detective. His overcoat blew in the wind when he managed to light his cigarette by cupping his hand around the tip of the cancer stick. His bright yellow eyes bore heroism into each of the three men before Deacon nodded. “Right.” The railroad agent said with a crooked smile. “Let’s get this motha goin’.” There was light, then chaos.

The best way Hancock could describe it is like opening one of those prank cans where springs hop out at you instead of it being some canned good foods. There were a peace and silence riveting towards violence, then stray bullets whizzing past their heads like jets breaking through the sound barrier. Nate was light on his feet despite the heavy armor that he wore going into battle with his demons for the second time. There was shouts, lasers, there were blood and pain.

Sometime in the beginning, someone knocked him in the leg somewhere. Hancock gritted his teeth a stray bullet blasting right through the cigarette in his lips. Tobacco sifted down to his feet like sprinkling snowflakes.

“That was my last one, you bastard!” The ghoul roared, catching a coarser by the neck with the barrel of his gun. The two struggled as he strangled the man thrashing on him. His hair was a midnight black with hues of blue when the light hit it right.

Having no nose helped in this situation because he was thrashing and kicking and grabbing for parts of him. He could hear bullets falling to the ground when he snatched at a magazine cover on his thigh.

The coarser was dying, his fight was fading quickly as he tugged the hot steel against his robotic skin. He smelled like burning flesh from the heat of him using it in battle, it was so easy to fool someone as being real.

The institute agent fell finally when he gave his final struggle of grave breath. He slumped down to his ass and Hancock released him to topple over like dead weight. Knuckling his hat up and catching a breath, he took advantage to look around him. He puffed jet just to slow down, to take in what was going on. Nick was toppled over in battle with a coarser welding his own weapon against him. Deacon, surprisingly, was like an old man at the moment.

His glasses were scattered across the floor, stark tinted black against an all white tile. It was like a sore thumb walking through the mess of white suits around them. His eyes told stories of battles, of blood and gore that wasn't his, but old friends, colleagues. Suicides, and give or dies.

He was grave with eyes built for precision, noticing everything, saying nothing, or lying, to not lie at all. He was steady and holding his own while simultaneously protecting Nate.

He was onto something, the other sole survivor. His best friend was facing west, going into one of the only doors that weren’t locked down. He had to help Nick, and get with Nate to wherever he was going. Picking up a few shell casings, he swiveled around a corner with a U-turn that looked like a smile.

He was hungry, so hungry for revenge, for blood, to taste the youth of the fountain in the familiar game of bloodshed for those who had it comin’ to him. It was biblical to be in situations like these where they play heroes, despite Hancock being his own biggest villain, losing everything, and gaining nothing while having everything.

He was fighting for a woman who may or may not be here. He was fighting to get to a woman who killed innocent people in an attempt to sacrifice her life because she knew she wouldn’t last here.

Because she’d given up hope of being found just like that. Like she didn’t expect Hancock to come and rescue his beautiful damsel. Swallowing his nerves, the ghoul barreled around the corner just when time began to move at the usual time again.

He shot the synth right between the eyes the same time Nick caught both his gun and the Institute rifle he welded.

“You alright, Nick?” Hancock asked, catching him by the forearm to help the synth detective up. There was a grateful smile in his old golden eyes despite his face being a mask of amusement.

“They haven’t killed me yet,” Nick replied coolly. He fished for the pack of cigarettes passing one to him. The two took a moment to light off one another like old times. They smoked together for a time that was before them. A time when his skin was like Rowan’s, soft porcelain not marred scarred remnants of flesh.

A time where John had been fighting the system with a chaotic good that Nick found admonishing as much as he did admirably. Which is how they became such good friends in the end.

They smiled at one another before flanking Nate’s back following him into the flames of hell again. They were men with differences in ways of making it happen, but one common goal, to make good in the commonwealth. Keep the peace without anyone lording it over the land.

Making it America, land of the free, as it was meant to be. This was the new revolution. “To your left!” Hancock barked. Nick flanked to the direction, Deacon to the right, Nate forward, Hancock watching his back.

They followed everyone’s back, brother in arms naturally. Here they were, fighting the group together just like they had the first time they took down the institute. “How did we get here again?” Deacon wondered aloud, recalling the same pondering the mayor had just been thinking about.

Valentine vocalized a laugh over the raining gunfire, “I was just wondering that earlier.”

Nate even cracked a smile saying, “We got that luck don’t we?”

There was silence. All which way, every which way. Rowan was used to being put in solitary from the days back when Alex used to lock her in her room for days on end just for going against his word, scoring too low on a test, or just displeasing him either way.

Maybe that was why solitary confinement was the worst way to die to her because it’s what haunted her nightmares each and every night. When her screams faded into the blackout eating it up like a hungry beast.

It made her sick.

She lost her stomach a few times, pulling at the open wounds that probably needed stitches, but was covered with large cotton pads and a gauze around her neck. Her head felt so heavy, she was tired, her body done from fighting everything.

Her mind was done and dumb, not able to find her control. She gave it up to whatever God was above. Hancock preached about her being some saving grace, some angelic enigma he made up in his drugged up mind. He praised her with a taste of his slender tongue and quick lavished of her clit. He praised her when she was simply getting out of the shower, he attacked her every time.

She loved that man. She realized it too late to tell him. She’d always known, but never answered that prayer she felt she never deserved. But now here she was, going to starve, going to die alone just as she, and everyone she knew, feared at some point in their life.

But here she was living that truth. She killed innocent people in an attempt to get out, Deacon said they weren’t innocent if they were the bad guys and they were taking them out.

That didn’t make it any easier when they ran in a room with guns blazing, and she saw the shock and surprise written in their face when the bullets suddenly pierced their bodies. Rowan shrieked then, all alone in her black little cell.

She cried because she was a monster. She deserved to die, to starve, to feel the familiar clench of thirst in the back of her throat. To survive off her urine until an infection ate her up.

To live like a mutt, as Shaun put it.

She couldn’t tell when she was awake or asleep, but she knew she cried until her head hurt too much and there was silence. This time though, she dreamed.

She got to see colors she missed so much. She was feeling crisp green grass under her toes, the remaining morning dew melting between her toes crossing the plain to the bright red fuzz in the horizon. The sun was raining down HD futuristic neon and positive colors. Warmth ate at her skin, and she wondered vaguely if she was dead. She felt too good to be sleeping, she was… Loved. In love.

She wore a crown of black Dahlias above her red hair falling down her back in thick auburn braids. Her white dress fell to her ankles when she walked, a goddess of spring. Hancock awaited her with a grin so bright it stole her breath even from feet away. She bound to him, rushed to the familiar man who took her virginity, stole her heart from day one. Her rosy lips split across her face despite the sunny sky fading.

The closer she got to Hancock the darker the place turned. From the Garden of Eden to the underworld with tombstones scattered among ashes and volcanic rock under her feet.

Hades, she realized. She met Hancock’s charcoal eyes when she took his familiar warm and rugged hands. Her breath hitched in her throat finding tears coming to her eyes, “John, help me.” She begged softly.

His smile fell quickly when he read the distress on her face. “I’m by myself. Please.” She hugged his neck tightly, but she fell right through him. A phantom. She tumbled right to the ground. He turned to look at her, and he did, she swore it.

“Rowan?” Hancock called out, thrashing about, searching for her.

“I’m here!” She yelled out, grabbing for him again and again despite her hands falling through him every time.

“Doctor Amari too!”

He took off in the opposite direction despite her shrieking for him. And just like that, she came to with a guttural shriek stuck in her throat, causing her to choke on the dry air around her. Oh God, they killed the filters. Rowan realized.

She was gonna die here.

Hancock had no idea where she was.

And for that, she sobbed until her head knocked her out again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate myself as much as I love myself. I hope this made sense and it's fun for you guys.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my little absence. Life has been fucking me left and right honestly, but hey. Anyways, here is the newest update, and I'm hoping it's as good as I can possibly make it. I've been busy dealing with my boyfriend and stuff, ya know, actually living life and giving a fuck about something ya feel?

There was a soft hum emitting all over the room. Rowan couldn’t catch her breath, her chest was so tight and fuck, it was so hot in here. The stuffy cave walls were definitely filtering the claustrophobic clutter in this little holding cell. Still, the sound was like the thunder of bass in her chest calming whatever was thrilling her. Feeling the ground under her arm she lifted herself up on her elbow looking around into the expanding abyss of the room she was placed in. She collapsed with her head hitting the cement ground with a thud.

Then she felt it.

They were soft nimble fingers going through her hair, she didn’t flinch, even if someone were in here to hurt her. It was so comforting, so soft… She nuzzled back on them feeling the cold breath hitting her ear despite how warm the feminine voice was. “You’ve done well, Poppy…” She heard her mother whisper in her ear. “You’ve made me so proud. I’m sorry things have to end this way.”

Rowan smiled to herself smiling over in regret, in worry, happiness, sadness. Tears came to her eyes among the gasps. Her eyes were heavy, head feeling like someone took it and stuffed her skull with cotton to fill up space not taken by her swelling brain. She didn’t have the strength to talk, she didn’t have to. Sarah sat cross-legged by her daughter’s head. She was the only light in the room.

All her days of wondering just how beautiful her mother was, seeing her back in the memory den, she couldn’t imagine the more compatible match to her. She had her mother’s eyes, but her father’s never doubting perseverance for change. Even if it wasn’t justified in a lot of people’s eyes, it made sense to him, and eventually everyone else. Kind of how Rowan ended up dying in the home she tried to avoid, and surprise, by lack of oxygen instead of one of the institute clones manhandling her.

Sarah had a hole of golden white, it radiated a comforting warmth despite the sweat pouring like a lake from Rowan’s temples. Her mother smiled sadly, reaching out to tuck her greasy strands of hair behind her ear. The motion made the doe-eyed vault dweller convulse when her lungs gave out with a final wretch she felt in her whole being. It was a forced sob, thinking about everything, everyone she left behind. Hancock would never ever know just how much he did for her.

How much she came to love him, for everything he did, taught her, showed her.

“It’ll only hurt for a moment,” Sarah promised, leaning down to kiss her forehead. There were tears in her eyes too, but a hopeful smile. She’d get to be with her mom again. Guess her dad was serving his sentence in hell for killing all those people. Always the one for sacrifice, she thought. Her eyes fell shut when the gunshots rang out outside. Sarah hummed to her, fingers in her hair helping to drown out the sound of ugliness outside, just like Sarah had always wanted to.

Hancock knew they were running out of time. He could feel it burning the ruins of his scarred skin, hear it whispering it like snickers of mischief in his ears when the lights suddenly shut off around them. The vents stopped with their silent whispers of filtered air, and Nate reacted to the lack of oxygen immediately. He bent over with his palms cupping his knees, retching up whatever had been left to digest in his stomach from how hard he was hacking. “They killed the lower floor.” Nick realized in alarm.

Deacon glanced about looking for a way out - anything, truthfully. With him being a synth, well, he didn’t very much have to worry about that. Nick knelt down next to Nate when he crumbled like building blocks being knocked over by a vengeful toddler. Hancock and the spy shared a look of knowing, the same thought crossed their minds. “We have to get ya outta here, partner.” Hancock drawled, grabbing a nearby corpse of a scientist.

Must’ve been killed in the crossfire, Hancock realized with a sad smile. “Whoever knew you guys would help some ratty guys like us out?” The ghoul chuckled, kneeling down to pick at the watch the man wore. He turned it over to see the infamous courser chip looking right up at him from the underside of the face.

He turned to strap it on Nate’s wrist. He gave him a puzzled look at the sudden importance of strapping on accessories, but he offered a warm smile. “We’ll be back in no time,” John promised. Nate was gone in a flash, literally, a beam of neon blue, when he hit the hidden button in the side.

He met Nick and Deacon’s puzzled eyes with a matching expression. “What?”

“Quick thinking.” Deacon noted with a crooked smile.

Usually, Nick would be applauding them too, but they were on borrowed time. “We have to find Doctor Amari, and Rowan before it gets too much.”

The trio took off like someone lit flames under their asses. Hancock took the lead following the trail of bodies they left in their wake. “We have to get to the lower floor where they kept Curie,” Hancock told Nick when the detective aided his left side against a few of some leftover courses. This isn't even half as many as they took out back when Nate went up against them all years ago. It still baffled him how the main man didn’t die. It was too easy.

He called that from the fuckin' get-go. Cancer.

The world’s most intelligent man who can create synthetic copies of people and irradiate every sickness from DNA samples, dying from cancer. Everything in the world was curable but that apparently. John got satisfaction from knowing he was truly right about that. “Hey,” He called over to Deacon from across the room. “You owe me fifty caps.”

“For what now?” He asked, a bushy eyebrow cocking up once one of the synth robots fell to his feet.

“Remember that bet we put on Shaun?”

Nick couldn’t believe these two. Still, it wasn’t rare to become desensitized to the blood and guts and start making fun out of it. “Can we find a better time to discuss this when we’re not trying to rescue someone?” He asked, keeping his revolver in his hold when they cleared out the hallway. John took off once again to survey the three men through to the lower floor. Nick easily hacked into the computer to open the door.

Hancock knelt down by her the moment the red coat blew through the door like his hat in the breeze. Her poor face was just a swollen mass of eyes, and what remained of a lip that wasn’t bubbled and swollen. “Holy shit.” Hancock mused, brushing her hair from her bruised and bloodied face.

The railroad spy was silent for a moment. “Is she still… With us?” He eventually asked.

There was a resonating gasp of air from the woman as she thrashed like a fish out of water. “Who’s gonna go with her when we get her out of here?” Deacon asked, looking up at Nick and Hancock. The mayor and detective shared a look.

“I’m not leaving Rowan.” He hissed in finality.

He expected as much. Deacon nodded, “Good, I can get out of this stuffy complex.” He strapped on one of the watches, grinning down at Amari. “Nice to see ya, doc. Usually, you’re tending to me.” The duo flushed away leaving them in the cell alone.

Nick could see the uneasiness decorating the faucets of his face

He knew that Hancock cared greatly for the woman, but he could see much more written there on his face than he willingly transcribed. There were years of age written amidst his ruined scarred curves on his face. Wrinkles pressed forever into burned skin remnants of pale porcelain flush and pulsing veins throbbing beneath the dermis. Feeling the heat of Nick’s optics pointed in his direction, the ghoul faced his friend.

His face was drawn with contempt a permanent scar of fury written on his thin lips. “I’m not waiting anymore.” He seethed, cocking up the barrel of his gun once he finished reloading it. He took off like someone lit the ignition perched in his ass and time was a thing he never heard of. He was so quick everything stood still because he was focused on the beautiful face he missed so much. Hancock swore, he’d give his whole fuckin; life up to save her.

He wouldn’t go another day without worshipping the glitter in her jade tumbling eyes of hers. He wouldn’t take for granted the soft kindness of when she caresses his skin when she thinks he’s asleep. Her mind, her soul, heart, it was wonderful. Fuck, it was beautiful, even. She was an enigma of beauty, of what humanity really looked like. He’d never again think that he could get ass at any time, and he’d cherish her body a little more when he rocked inside her.

He’d hold her through her fits, he’d devote himself to Rowan like Hancock was destined to be her little bitch boy. “This way,” Nick called when Hancock stumbled on a door he couldn’t even think to pull. The deeper beneath the suffocating hallways of stairs they went, the more dread set in. Hancock was a ghoul and lost a lot of humane parts of him, needing oxygen being one of the cooler things. Helped enhance the drugs when you could hold in smoke for five to six minutes.

Point being, he was having a hard time breathing himself. There was no way Rowan was okay. “Shit.” The ghoul vocalized with a quiver of fear in his murmur. Passing a knowing look over his shoulder, the detective frowned deeper considering the forlorn thoughtfulness across John’s expression.

“Don’t give up just yet.” Nick all but begged, clapping him on the shoulder lightly when he fell back to wait for the ghoul to catch up to him.

John was so profoundly disturbed in his thoughts he didn’t realize Nick had run ahead. They faced a beaten to hell door, and he knew then, this was her.

With no second thought, the two landed a solid kick, and open it went fixing whatever jam the laser blasted dented door had. Rowan looked like shit, right off the bat. Hancock saw her skin with a blue tint, and his heart stopped. “She’s not breathing!” Hancock roared, kicking the detective’s ankles the moment he sailed in, diving for the sunshine golden hair knotted and tangled around her bruised body.

Nick scrambled up with ease grumbling, but nevertheless more focused on the woman lying dead before them. There was blood-soaked and caked like a dog’s fur after being outside in a hurricane for four days. Holes littered her neck, face bruised, parts of her split in parts there never should have been. Bubbled flesh protruding against stubborn white and black skin. Hancock’s blood boiled seeing the woman he loved in such a devastating condition.

“Motherfuckers.” Hancock howled, scooping her up bridal style to present her to Nick for him to see. Her head bobbed when he swiveled, and the synth knew they had limited time.

Yanking one of the microchip infested accessories he jacked from a corpse, Nick yanked the two close. He pretended not to still see the frightened face of Hancock behind his faux eyelids when he blinked once he felt his body splitting into millions and tiny fragments of particles waiting to respawn back in their designation at the Castle.

Hancock had never felt something so bitter gnawing at his guts like this. He had never once felt so much protectiveness over the delicate creatures lying adjacent in his arms right now. Rowan’s eyelids never fluttered, not even when his feet landed steadily on solid ground. He was aware of Nate and hands prying at the woman in his hold. “Move back, move back!” He heard an unfamiliar voice shout, catching Hancock off guard.

Breaking through the crowd of minutemen and nearby doctors, an unfamiliar figure broke through. He was a tall lean figure with eyes as blue as the skies above during the day. They were smokey gray along the outside of his irises. They looked haunted like he’d seen some shit. He had a goatee covering his sculpted jaw, blond hair pulled up in a bun with the rest of his head shaved. “My name is Rex James.” He told Hancock. “I’m a long time friend of Rowan’s from DC, and I’m a very well known surgeon. I came as soon as I heard the word of her disappearance.”

The charcoal eyes burned with pure rage when he reached out to touch her stone cold cheek with such a tender brush of the back of his fingers. His skin barely bristled the curvaceous silkiness of her broken face like he was longing for her, just as much as Hancock was. “Back off, she’s fine.” he bit out. He turned to Nate, ignoring the protests of the man behind him.

Still, the man was adamant, and Nate knew he wasn’t gonna win an argument. “It’s either we bicker and wait for her to die, or we make sure Rowan can resuscitate back to us.” Nate bit out bitterly. “Rex is the Lone Wanderer from DC, the one who helped train her. If anyone can help us, fuck, it's him, Hancock.” Nate all but begged, his dark eyes filled with a chilling pleading wetness that didn’t fit his tough demeanor. Then, Hancock remembered just how severe this situation was. Rowan could be riddled with infections right now, caked in blood, piss, and fuck knows what else.

“Right.” The ghoul hissed, laying her down on the stretcher. It was something so bitter to see someone so beautiful in life, to make such a broken disturbed piece of art in death. It wasn’t her he was staring at, by no way, no means. Her cheeks were round, but not like someone placed a plastic ball under her skin and waited for it to burst. Not like that. Her lips were full, not swollen, dry, and split from abuse. Hancock didn’t know if he wanted to cry, yell, or all out panic. Still, on the outside, no one would ever know the hell going through his mind.

His fingers reached out for her cold dainty hand feeling her before she was whisked away from him, leaving him in mystery when he fell down on a nearby bench, face in his palms. He couldn’t get her dead body out of his head, couldn’t forget her deadweight soiling his already abused and tender muscles. How he still longed to kiss her sorrow and pains away. There was one thing to never forget the person who attempted to end your life.

It was like the first and only time Hancock was mugged for all he had. He just moved to Goodneighbor to evacuate Diamond City. He rounded the corner right before the gates following the shitty map one of his friends, Demetry, had given him. He was long gone since then, but that's beside the point. He thought that maybe the raider would’ve taken something from him, but no. It was pure evil. “Do you know where to get any chems?” John would’ve lied if he said he hadn’t jumped a little bit suddenly being face to face with eyes so heavily bagged they just looked like little sacks on his face.

“No,” Hancock said, moving past him. He was on the ground by his shoulder, pistol to his head, execution style. He whirled to kick the intruder in his knees. He went down but was up within seconds. Hancock ran right for the neon signs flashing above the door, he got inside, someone would help, maybe. He had enough connections by then. The man was relentless. He charged, knocking him forward with a kick to his lower back.

Turning onto his back to watch where this maniac was at, he straddled his chest, gun to his head. “Help!” John all but shrieked, knowing someone would hear. The Goodneighbor entrance was right there! Still, the gun went off, but he moved just enough to get nothing but a bullet graze. He needed stitches, but he stopped fighting. He thought the man would at least get whatever he came for, but no. Not a thing. Just running the moment then blood ran down the back of his neck, leaving him to pull himself to safety.

He knew she’d experience these horrors the moment she came to. Everything left over from her surviving whatever disastrous evil was struck upon her by Shaun’s hands. Nate walked forward placing a hand on the ghoul’s shoulder. Hancock avoided his gaze watching the straight back of Rex disappearing behind the large double doors of the surgical room with Curie waiting, covered in blood and lord knows what else from Doctor Amari’s wounds. He shrugged his hand off muttering something about needing liquor.

Nate wanted to object but knew when it came to him, booze and drugs is, has been, and probably always would be a thing. And with no Rowan to appetizing his hunger for sex to distract him, well, it was gonna be a long few days of recovery for them all. “How you holdin’ up?” Nick’s macabre voice pulled him from his pool of worry, buried under the rules of everyone else, he forgot that he himself had a controversy.

Truthfully, Nate didn’t have a clue. He didn’t take time to access his own troubles he was burrowing deep beneath the pits of his heart. “Fine.” He eventually answered after a telling prolonged silence from the vault dweller. Nick didn’t look as if he believed him at first.

“Have ya just not had the time?” He guessed, flicking a cigarette from the pack buried under his coat.

A hint of a smile pulled on Nate’s lips. “You know me so well.” He answered, lowering himself down on the ground leaning his back against the shaded wall of the castle. A mini cloud of dust rolled between the robot and human males before it settled like a rolling hurricane expanding upon dry land. They sat in silence watching different webs of action. Some soldiers continuing on with their everyday commands, some waiting, some just living among the land enjoying their days off. The rest was helping tend to the wounded doctor now resting in her quarters.

Hancock wanted to kick himself, kill himself, shoot up until his whole fuckin’ body went numb. He wanted to be there for when she woke up. She had to wake up. It wasn’t impossible to resuscitate someone, right..? Rowan hadn’t been gone that long. Maybe she really was breathing, her pulse was just too weak. The ghoul laughed curtly to the curly haired man hiding behind the bar, polishing a scratched to fuck and back glass scrounged up from this shit hole they called home.

But fuck, his heart was shattered seeing her, holding her, knowing that could be the very last moment they ever see of her. Covering his face with his palms, he groaned and threw another belligerent handful of caps on the counter grumbling, “‘Nother bottle.” Kicking himself from his stool wallowing around it in a circle, then plopping back down again. The drinks were starting to take effect, the edge of his vision was blurry, and his teeth were going numb.

Sighing heavily with dismay, the man shook his head with an aggravated quirk of the corner of his lip. “No more.” He snapped, shoving all his caps right back at the mayor. “You’ve been nothing but a dick since you’ve been here, and listen,’ He shouted with a crack in his voice like a pubescent little boy, “I’m a nice guy. I don’t serve drunk fucks.”

“It’s because I’m a ghoul ain’t it?” The drunk creature shouted, knuckles grating on the polished wooden surface when he fisted his hands on top of them. “You fuckin’ cunt!” Hancock bounded over the counter-gripping the man by the collar of his shirt when he felt stronger hands on his shoulders yanking him back away from the venomous drive to kill this poor bartender. There was fear written in his eyes, and Hancock wanted to take every ounce of his shit out on the guy just because he presented himself that way.

Nate restrained him by catching him a headlock while Deacon stood by and watched, despite the fact he said he was gonna help. “Timothy, you all right man?” The railroad agent asked with a smooth poker face, the smirk there in his voice despite his glasses hiding the too cocky glint in his eyes.

Nate glowered at him when he drags the mayor past him. “What happened to help?” He demanded.

“And miss the pretentious execution of pure thug against someone who still stays in a room with his mom?” Deacon snorted, despite Timothy’s passionate cries of protest. “No thanks.” He finished, pocketing the remaining caps Hancock left behind.

Nate threw Hancock down against the wall inside his bedroom, demanding, “The fuck was that about?”

Hancock snorted. “The guy wanted to stop servin’ me because I was a ghoul. Big pretentious fuck.” He muttered, picking himself up from the floor with his palms. He brushed the pebbles from the bricks off his stagnant coat thick with blood, mud, and fuck knows what else. He needed to wash it.

“Timmy is one of the most chill guys.” Nate bit at him. “I think you were misplacing whatever the fuck you had going on.”

“Your point?”

“You’re drunk, so this argument is quickly gonna go nowhere. But he's a good guy, he wouldn't ever discriminate.”

“Well, he did," Hancock argued. "You just know my logic is impeccably flawed and you can't handle not being right..”

“Spell impeccable.”

"Your mom." The mayor sighed.

"Yeah?" Nate snorted. "How old are you?"

Hancock opened his mouth to retort when he turned to ask Rowan to help him, finding the corner behind his shoulder where she sunk down in a beanbag, empty. Nate noticed when the man’s shoulders sagged lower than an aged whore’s tits. His sparkling bubbliness of the smart ass joy in his eyes dulled to smokey matte balls of depression. Nate physically felt it when Hancock’s heat broke because even Nate had looked over where she always sat waiting for her input.

“Hey…” Nate began sadly, reaching out again. He cupped his friend’s shoulders sturdily, watching when his attention drifted to him again.

“Nate, she wasn’t breathing… Blue. She was blue.” Hancock whispered with words so heavy it was like the ghoul had tied wrought iron chains around his ankles to send him drowning at the bottom of his sea of sadness too. He was a man who fell in love with the foolish child with the golden heart. “I touched her face, she was broken, her body ravaged… Your son…”

The words stung once they unrolled out to him like a red carpet where every bad thing Nate hated about himself waltzed their pretty little asses on to ravage the inside of his brain. The last two. His son. How could someone like him have created someone so stagnant? Well, he was a lot like him. With a mind so incredibly developed to process every scenario, piece together any problem, gadget, gizmo, he was a making of a damn good leader. Just like Nate, he was one hell of a powerhouse, and God helps whatever faction was going up against them.

It just so happened, a brilliant mind was processed, picked apart, and put back together to work for the means of the institute. Shit happens. It did. It had. And now it was like seeing two super geniuses trying to outsmart the other. “My son... “ Nate thumbed the tip of his nose with a dry little chuckle. “My fucking son… He’s a monster…” He began to pace fingering through his hair in alarm. “I thought I killed the motherfucker. I knew it was too fuckin’ easy.”

His eyes met Hancock and something cold bolted through the ghoul at how devastatingly dark they were like someone shut the lights off to the big teddy bear of a heart he had. “But I hoped he stayed dead. But no. He killed Rowan.” He kicked at anything. Kicked at a bucket, clothes, the dresser, he threw a vase at the wall.

Hancock could do nothing but watch his closest friend fall to shambles, a physical representation of what his whole head was going through himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, we conclude with this chapter. I'm really happy we introduced the lone wanderer in this, and I hope to whatever the fuck is out there we get a better turn out for our brilliant readers. Thank you as always for the views, comments, and kudos. I'm really happy I've found something, someone, to keep me inspired in life again. The beauty I've been experiencing is unlike any other.


	22. Chapter 22

Hancock was lost in a daze of nicotine and mentats fueled buzz. His imagination was everywhere helping him to escape to the purple and baby blue lilac skies with flourishing maple green grass tickling his mangled toes. It was even better when the jet kicked in, and in his vape, he saw Rowan’s precious eyes peering over at him from the horizon of a sunrise in the early morning dawn. The rays of the sun were her thick luscious eyelashes flickering to life when she woke from her sleep.

Her beautiful russet eyes swiveled from behind her head forcing herself to wake from whatever beautiful dreamland someone as unique as she created in her resting slumber. They zeroed in on his nude form, and the smile in them was undeniable. He could almost see the crinkle in the corner of her eyes when she grinned, and Hancock couldn’t help but return that grateful blissful simper.

“Hello, gorgeous.” He purred, and Rowan just blinked back to him. Within seconds her eyes began to shrink as the honey golden sun overtook her everlasting beauty. It was supernatural, and John couldn’t find anything more subsequently delirious in beauty. Not until like Persephone, she blossomed from the earthy florals. Her golden locks had beautiful summer flowers tied in random places, pale skin untouched, flawless, a pure chiseled stone of the finest china. Rowan walked with a feline-like swivel of her hips, her eyes so gentle, kind…

She reached out to take his chin in her timid guiding palm, giggling with the cutest little twinkle he longed to hear. “Fuck, I missed that sound…” John purred to her, kissing her forehead softly. He caressed her skin watching the golden lights reflecting off her baby soft canvas. There was no sign of pain, of suffering, no scrape or mark one on her besides the moles and freckles intricately placed by the Gods above.

She just smiled back up at him kissing his lips.

And just as quick as they were there, cushions against his thin lips, her heavenly honey essence drenching his taste buds - he was tasting bitter chem stained air. It strangled his throat when he attempted to breathe in through the holes in his face and fuck - “Shit!” The mayor gagged, bolting up from where he lay in the middle of Nate’s bedroom. So all of that was just-just some fucked up jet flashback or some shit?!

Nate was kneeling next to him with worry etched all over his aging features. Hancock never really noticed until now how the years pulled at the lines in the corner of his eyes, the bags forever a permanent scar beneath his eyes. Once an old style pins up pristine and unbristled by the ravaging radiation outside, now a cretin of the Commonwealth like the rest of them. “What?” Hancock rasped, flinging his hat off and rubbing his palms along his bald head, trying to stop the puke from overtaking his throat.

The vault dweller noticed the cradling rocking motion in the mayor - and launched for a nearby bucket discarded among the disaster they both had to clean from the general’s fits of rage. “Are you gonna be sick?” He guessed.

John wanted so bad to reply - but when he went to gag - he sobbed instead. Crying. John fuckin’ Hancock was cryin’ over his woes right now. A man who could intimidate even a deathclaw with how raw his anger was - how powerful. Nate’s eyes bulged, but he launched himself to hug the poor man close. “I thought I lost ya, man…” Nate confessed. “You were seizin’ out a little, then you just… Stopped responding.”

The ghoul, however, was focused on something entirely different. He didn’t fear death - he welcomed it, rather. The ultimate high he evaded again and again - no. He was worried about the death that ruptured his heart. “I saw her.” John sobbed into Nate’s broad chest. “She was - was there…” He attempted to stop the bitter flow of tears gritting his teeth angrily. “What the fuck, Nate? Why her?” He demanded, shoving him away.

He was full of blind murderous fury that was sending sharp flames from his brain to his crotch - making his dick twitch for the familiar pleasure of the sport. He wanted to hunt down the fucks who even dared to kill her. Who dare to let her bleed out, die out, thin, starved, broken, cattle. Treat her like needless Brahmin. Hancock’s hand was on the knob of the door when Nate clutched his upper arm violently.

John whirled on him then knocking the butt of his shotgun upside his head with a feral growl that vibrated low in his chest. “Back the fuck off, Nate. This grudge ain’t got shit to do with you.” Hancock bit out through his teeth.

The general grasped a vase tossing it at the mayor's head.

As unsteady as he may be, his street reflexes prepared him for shit like this. He dodged it with ease, going for the door again.

Nate grasped his shoulder once more kicking him in the back of knees, pinning him down to the floor by straddling his back. Nate kept the ghoul’s face pressed down against the door breathing vehemently through his large flaring nostrils. “You’re not gonna go fuckin’ endangering the rest of us, Hancock.” The general told him with a low, slow deathly deliberate coldness. “We’ll figure this out. There’s no use of going after them, she needs you. John.”

The words made the ghoul stop struggling, he was quiet. Nate was afraid he’d passed out again until his reply came in a gruff little, “Okay…”

Flashing green lights. No, not green there’s… There’s so much more going on here. Rowan’s eyes fluttered open and she whimpered from how blinding these lights are, and why there were so many colors in the air around her. Turning her head, she saw Curie watching with anticipation. She was safe, somewhere, there was Curie. She was out of the vault, she had to be.

“Oh my God…” Rowan all but sobbed in relief. “Am I safe..?” She managed to whisper waiting for everything to catch up with her, but getting nothing but blank where days worth of time spanned to just… Haze. Like it never happened.

“Of course, you’re at the castle with friends,” Curies promised, reaching out to pet her hair. She seemed more… Defined. Rowan could identify every pore, could see where the synthetic pupils dilated to two little optics. She could see the robotics in her jaw. She never noticed that sort of shit before, now that she came to think of it. Rowan rolled her head flinching away from the lights around her.

She was seeing the room in… A full circle. Blinking a few times, Rowan sat up turning her head left and right - she could see the whole fuckin’ room like living in a huge spherical lens. “C-curie..?” The auburn haired woman whispered, looking from her hands, flinching at the remnants of blood and iodine covering bits between her delicate wiggling fingers.

“You are awake!” Curie bounced on the balls of her feet, reaching out to gingerly take her by the chin, tilting her head up and - “Oh, oh dear…” Her head tilted curiously, blinking a few times curiously. “Are you seeing things any differently?”

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Rowan almost laughed out loud. “Thank God, I thought I was going crazy…” She admitted. “Why?”

Curie seemed to hesitate, sparing a glance to the little bathroom, to her, then back again. She whisked away with a pixie-like prance, and the auburn-haired woman fell back sinking into the lead like muscle mass she seemed to have. What the fuck happened, and why was she here? Last she remembered, she was in a room full of… Of, people. She thought they were people. Doctor Amari. Electrocution. Shaun. Murder.

Solidarity. Black. Space. Silence.Sleepless. Insanity. Insomnia.

Curie reappeared with a handheld mirror temporarily pulling Rowan from her thoughts. “This… Maybe alarming…” Curie whispered.

Instead of one pupil in each eye, two solid hazel ones peered back at her. She really had four fucking eyes. “O-oh…” Rowan mused in alarm, throwing her hands over her eyes with a mortified shriek. “My eyes- my eyes!” The frail woman panicked, kicking her heavy legs about her bed.

Curie’s eyes grew wide, worrisome, and she ran for the door calling out, “Rex! She’s awake!”

It was the siren everyone had been waiting on - and John refused to ever let someone other than Nate and himself be one of the first ones to see her. The little Lone Wanderer gone medic dashed past the two of them attempting to shoulder them out when they saw the sporadic scene of a sobbing Rowan, face hidden in her blankets. Her whole body was thrashing like a fish out of water with her vicious shriek like wails.

Maybe Hancock didn’t need to be here to see this.

Nate passed him a worried glance, but the ghoul’s eyes were on her instead.

“My eyes!” Rowan sobbed like a wailing maniac. “What did they do to me?”

RJ walked over to sedate her - but Hancock wasn’t gonna have it. “Leave her alone.” He demanded, reaching over to stop the vault dweller. “I don’t know how you fucks do it in DC, but this ain’t it, chief. Backup a moment.” The ghoul and RJ glared down at one another before the steel-eyed bastard took a slow step back. It was like his whole pride depended on that move, it was like he dug his foot in tar and he was still struggling to remove it.

Point aside, Hancock slowly reached for her hands. He expected her to flinch - he wanted to. She was so so tiny, so broken and mangled. “Hey there, Doe…” He greeted soothingly, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear that wasn’t hidden by her hands.

Her head shot up - and he saw what the spazz was about.

She must’ve caught the look of shock on his face because she ducked away hiding her face into her knees with more savage cries. “I’m a monster!” Rowan wailed like a mourning mother missing her stillborn child. She was crying for the part of her she gained from leaving that fucking place - and now here she was, some weird mutant creature thing the Institute and her cute little fucking prison of a vault turned her into now.

“Did they do anything to you?” Hancock demanded.

RJ cleared his throat from the back, bringing the room to a silence beside Rowan’s hiccuping breaths. “She has traces of a new form of radiation drug.” He began, walking over with the clipboard to show them their findings from plenty of blood work. “It mutated some of her genes, her muscles are - well, more durable. Her body has about a twenty percent faster healing rate, which is why you can hardly see any more open wounds… And, her perception… She has two very capable working eyes.”

“As do many,” Nate said.

Hancock glanced over at him, opening his mouth to correct him when Rowan looked up at him, and silence overtook the room. “You… You can see?” Nate asked after a moment. “The only condition I’ve heard of where something like that happens is Pupula Duplex and usually they’re blind-”

“This isn’t some genetically refined, passed down to a new generation mutation.” RJ reminded him, voice monotone despite how drawn his face was. “This was a formula we’ve found traces in as far as California. It was more refined, and just so happens…” He motioned to Rowan, who wanted to hide away from all their ponderous gazes.

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing.” Hancock cut in immediately. “So what, she’s not so breakable? She’s got funky looking eyeballs, we have bitches walking around here missing their dicks because radiation ate it off. It’s just another Commonwealth thing.” Truthfully, he was just fuckin’ happy to see her alive, to hear her voice, touch her, feel her-

“Then why did I die?”

The question brought the whole room up silent.

Her gaze went to each one, intense, even for someone with a soul as tenderly gentle as hers. “I know I died. I saw my mother. I don’t remember half of the days, and I can’t tell if it was being locked up deprived of all my senses, or if this is all some fucked up death sequence.”

“I imagine you’re here because you were very heavily deprived of nutrients you needed for the formulation to work. You were too weak for your body to take right away. You were sick.” RJ came to say, resting on a stool with one foot braced up on the little foot stand. “We resuscitated you, they found you in enough time. It was just helping your body fight off various infections, or we thought until we realized what was going on inside your body.”

“It broke down your muscles, melted them. It just took proper care to get to what they were trying to achieve.”

“They knew what they were doing.” Nate cut in with a dark little chuckle. Rowan looked over at him - just for a second - and she found Hancock next to her. His eyes were on Nate until he felt her eyes, and he hugged her just that much closer. He kissed the top of her head cupping her face in his large palms. She stared up at him with those unique eyes, and he smirked.

“Don’t do that right now…” Rowan begged him softly. “What? Are you gonna make some kind of freak joke?”

“No,” John said with a crooked, warm little smile. “I always loved your eyes, Doe. This just makes it so much better, double the beauty. Plus,” He leaned forward purring in her ear, “I can see double the twinkle when your lips are wrapped around my cock-”

She slapped him, but he held her so fuckin’ close, not caring if anyone in the room was watching them. The apple of his eye was right there, smiling up at him, tired, defeated, but fuck, she was there. “I have something to tell you,” John admitted after a moment.

“Funny, I got something to tell you.” She confessed softly.

There was a silence drowning out the room, eyes on the couple. Turning his head over his shoulder his black orbs shrank right down to little rice grains. “Do you mind?” The ghoul rasped.

Nick rolled his eyes, patting Nate and RJ on the shoulders. “C’mon, he’s right. Doctor Amari is expecting us too, just don’t forget to stop by and check on her.” The detective stared over at him like a father reprimanding his son. The smile John flashed back was heartbreaking, and it warmed Rowan all at once. Something told her, Nick was the closest thing he had to a father figure in these times.

He still had a hint of that blinding smile on his face when he turned to look at her, and honestly, everything she’d been feeling boiled over the moment they were alone. She scrambled like a puppy attempting to take off for its bowl of food, her fingers grabbing at sheets and blankets in an attempt to get to him. He reached out for her, but her arms followed the familiar path around his waist yanking him close to her immediately. It overwhelmed John just how much his hug resembled a frightened child hugging their mother’s skirt, crying for the parent departing their ways.

Rowan was such a security, a comfort, it was what he came to know as home. Her heart was thudding upon his head when he lay her back, lying curled up around her, head on her chest just for a moment. Even the big bad Hancock had to be comforted. “What did you want to tell me?” Rowan whispered, the phlegm congested somewhere in her bronchial tubes. It rattled like pebbles in a dryer.

The ghoul froze a moment. He went o remove his hat when the dark ginger woman he lay on swiped it to the floor saving him the effort. Also giving him less of a distraction, “Um.” Hancock began, inhaling as he sat up. He caught the fleeting worried furrow of her brown when she set up at the waist again. “Listen. Y-you, don’t have to say anything…”

He threw his legs over the bed, anxiously rubbing at the back of his neck as he paced back and forth before her. “I, um… realized somethin’ a while ago, and I jus’ ain’t had the guts to say it…” She watched his gold chains glimmer against the exposed burnt skin beneath his red duster and musky white ruffles. “I, uh.” He stopped, looking up from under the shade of his hat.

Rowan knew what was coming, she anticipated it. As self-conscious as she was about her new eyes, she couldn’t look at him at this very moment. “I love you.” He muttered, and she, for the first time, saw that ghouls could truly blush. Grinning from ear to ear Rowan sat up to grab him when he rushed forward, swooping her up in the crook of his arm only to lay her back on the fluff of pillows. “You need to rest,” Hancock demanded, despite the gentle way his finger adored her flushing cheek like it was the most fragile thing he’d ever once beholden.

“You love me?” The question came from that curious child he knew she kept hidden, just for him to see, Rowan’s unique double irised eyes apprehended him with such regard it made his chest swell from how much genuine love flourished from her colorful mind.

“Of course, Rowan,” Hancock said with a soft chuckle under his breath. “I knew it from the moment I saw them pretty little doe eyes givin’ me the most curious, pervy little stare.” Scrunching his nose that no longer remained, he kissed the tip of hers instead.

Rowan couldn’t even begin to explain the weird displacement of emotions in her. So much joy because yes, yes indeed, fuck yes she loved him. “I thought I was gonna die without ever hearing one of us saying it.” Said the wounded little redhead laying disposed under the mass of sheets and pillows, wires, and medicines. The line was so raw despite the crooked little smile on her beautiful face. There was something swallowing him whole in the way her words seemed to linger in his head.

She had died. She’d been hours past death when they rescued her. He wasn’t gonna address that, or how RJ was some medical fuckin’ genius from DC. Or how he wanted to figure out just why he felt the need to trek all the way t her plump little ass up in the ruins of New England. “Well, ya heard it. Ya happy?” The ghoul muttered, kissing her forehead.

A man only kisses three people on their foreheads. That’s their mothers, wives, and daughters. John spoke of his mother avidly, despite her being long gone by now. She was certain no one fucked their own kids… Right? Actually, nah, she’d come across some shit all those years she stumbled the cold decaying rot of America... Despite that, it was more than obvious she was the apple of his eye, the mistress of his admiration.

He kissed her on the forehead.

The warmth of his thin lips still radiated like a seedling sprouting from its burrowed womb beneath the soil. “I love you.” She whispered she was so quiet she had no clue if he ever heard it at all. Grabbing her face, he smashed their lips together breathing hotly against her mouth, “Ya ain’t gotta say it.” He quickly stripped off the thin gown she wore covering her bare body. She’d been gone for a few weeks, and her body was a canvas adorned by colors he wished he put on her,

She watched his black eyes dance across her, undressing her further, inspecting the wounds she kept buried far beneath the poorly stitched wounds on her hips, and the few scars of whips forever raised on her back. They didn’t hurt anymore. Not like that. After all, she was a survivor of some weird medical experiment, after all. She healed faster. She saw more.

More than what was physical, too.

She was getting glimpses of people, beings, things that weren’t there. She was finding it hard to focus with whatever low buzzing was forever present in her ear. Hancock’s teeth on her throat were enough of a distraction and she moaned out in surprised, finding him naked already. “When did you undress?” Rowan breathed when Hancock hitched her legs right over his shoulders, licking his way down her bruised little stomach.

He laughed at her then. “You were distracted, and fuck, I need you so bad.” He dove into her mound sending cataclysmic radiation through her whole fragile being.

“Oh, fuck, remind me what that filthy mouth of yours does.” Rowan pleaded, fingers going over his head. He cradled the crown of it with her tender little fingertips and Hancock fell in love all over again.

He was slow, taking his time to lavish her sensitive, but needy clit. Rowan’s hips rolled instinctively down against his lapping muscle and he moaned, loving the way it felt to have her gyrating under him, leaking all into his thirsty mouth. It was filth and romance, it was what Hancock lived for. It was so much better because it was her, and no one other than her. His tongue worked faster, and so did her words, keens, whines.

“Fuck, John!” Rowan whimpered, legs trembling as another violent orgasm awoke inside her soul. She was unable to vocalize the warning, stomach tight as she clenched up, erupting in pleasure so beyond her universe of understanding. She could do no more than grab on tighter to him, only crying out when she was able to hijack a breath among the assault. “E-eat that pussy!” She choked out, head falling back burrowing her imprint on the thick blankets, her hands grasping her bruised and tender breasts.

Hancock vaguely wondered why her fingers fit right where the purple stripes were and were furious that someone else may have touched her like this. She seemed to take notice and covered herself suddenly feeling a little too exposed beneath his intrusive gaze. “No.” She demanded.

He shot up immediately, dropping her legs painfully on the bed, the heat of the moment lost. “Someone hurt you.” He hissed through his teeth.

“No one did.”

“You’re a filthy fuckin’ liar, Rowan Fairchild.”

“I’m not!”

“They’re fingerprints!” Hancock reached over to point it out, but she flinched back, immediately throwing on her gown.

“Get out.” She demanded hoarsely. He didn’t wanna look at him, and suddenly felt so fuckin’ ashamed of what they’d just done. What she knew she never, ever should have done in the first place.

Bare eyebrows raising, Hancock gave her an exasperated look of disbelief. “What?”

“Get out!”

“Rowan!”

“RJ!”

The door burst in, Nate soon to follow having heard the ruckus. The poor DC gentleman cringed at the sight of a naked Hancock. “What the fuck?” He mused.

Nate facepalmed.

Rowan ran, ran as far as she could. As far as her poor numb little feet would carry her.

 

~Also I have no idea how to do this picture thing on here but I got inspiration from the mummy for the double eye thing. I thought with the plot I have going, this will be perfect.~

 

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

She was wearing those goddamn glasses again, Hancock thought to himself with a scolding scoff. Hearing the noise reach her sensitive ears, Rowan passed him a glance, a sad frown on her lips. She was helping Nate around the castle using her newfound strength to help rebuild a wall taken down by an ambush of super mutants not too long ago. The ghoul pushed himself up off the walls feeling the fabric of his red duster parting from his skin like a peeling sunburn. He could practically feel the ridges left behind on his skin as he crossed the threshold to get back to Rowan.

She turned to look at him, her expression hidden behind the mysterious tint those aviators controlled. Deacon was getting the biggest kick out of it, and maybe Hancock was jealous because the two of them were wearing matching outfits right now. She was wearing one of the flared out dresses that gave Hancock the filthiest ides of pushing that fluffy skirt up to her hips-

And Deacon actually worked it as well as she did. But, upon that, they had something in common now. They were both trying to hide something, but Rowan’s insecurities were more than crust deep. “Am I gonna be able to talk to you today?” Asked the ghoul, unable to hide the crisp chill of venom in the clipped way he barked the words.

He heard the soft little intake of breath that related a sharp jab of the dagger to the chest. He felt bad the moment her eyebrows pulled together, and he knew those hard eyes of hers were softening. “Row-” Hancock immediately tried to reprimand, “I didn’t-”

She turned on her heels then spinning that pretty little dress dramatically around. Hancock caught her hand like someone would try to snatch a jewel, possessively, demanding. Rowan whipped around to face him when his lips hit hard like a goddamn meteorite barreling through space into a satellite. Rowan was stiff for a moment before she softened and mewled right into his waiting mouth. Hancock’s tongue tasted of familiar lust, pain, drugs.

His hands were tangled in her auburn hair feeling her curvy body respond in his favorite way. She grasped for his sides, grinding right down on his crotch. Right in front of everyone, free to see just how weak and submissive this minx was for him. “I hate those fuckin’ glasses,” John growled when he yanked away to search her expression.

He saw himself in the reflection of them, and maybe it was part of the reason he openly despised the shades so much. He was seeing himself the way Rowan was, and it made him rethink how he responded. He’d been such a dick to her since she was rescued. He wanted nothing but to keep her close in any way he knew how just because he was mortified of seeing her that way again. His knees got weak just at the reminiscent of it, and he knew Rowan caught it.

His hands tightened on her hips bringing their lips together again and again, devouring each other like he was the holy water clenching her thirst. “Bedroom.” Rowan gasped out, all but losing her sanity the moment her lips parted with a satisfying smack.

And lord fucking help her when Hancock had her alone.

There were so much aggression and anger behind his movements, a lot of fury fucking would be going down tonight, Rowan realized.

The moment the door to the bedroom clicked, Hancock flicked on the light and attacked like a cheetah. Her clothes were off in a matter of seconds, and he had her already whimpering without touching her in any way. The only problem was, those glasses were on. To her, those were like underwear. He’d never ever take them off without her consent. But it wasn’t a full display with them.

She was beautiful and sun-kissed, hips so round with breasts so perfectly plump. Licking along his lips he circled her. She tensed when she felt his body heat behind her, his palms skimming over her plush backside. It was like touching the most expensive, most forbidden, a sculpture that survived the nuclear fallout. He watched the goosebumps roll like waves up her lower back to the tip of her scalp.

The little hairs on her neck stood up, and Hancock smirked to himself though he knew Rowan wouldn’t see. “You…” He drawled slowly, brushing her long hair over her right shoulder. He kissed along the back of her neck, arms circling her little waist.

She knew then, she was in for a whole lot of trouble.

His fingers dipped right over her smooth mound, the only thing shaved on her stubby little legs. Her breath escaped shakily, a Bambi like blush creeping up on her cheeks from being caught. “Naughty.” He purred in her ear, kissing it right after.

Her eyes closed the moment his fingers found her aching clit.

Anticipation.

His mouth never stopped moving on her neck as he began to circle her slick little bundle of nerves. He was so slow, drawing it out, feeling her. Her moans were filling him with devilish desires, a demon breaking into the cell of the angel he somehow caught. “Fuck you.” He hissed, biting down on her shoulder with a lustful little roll of the skin between his teeth.

The pinch and pleasure forced a pleasured yelp from the redhead, bending over his arms with her palms pressed flat down on the wall.

Just like he wanted.

Rowan wanted to laugh feeling his lips curve upwards into that devious little smirk. Her body was bent at that perfect angle where he could just shove his cock right up into her, feel her slick little cunt right open… his mouth practically watered like gutters in a storm at the thought of just how much of a mess he’d make of her tonight. “You really think you can hide from me? Thought ya loved me, kid?”

He removed his arms from around her feeling two slick fingers along her dripping folds. Rowan would be lying if she didn't feel violated right now. Naked, wanting, and so emotionally scarred… He was gonna open her up in every way tonight, and she was gonna let him.

She missed him. "I do, John," Rowan said so tenderly.

Needed him.

And she was gonna take him in every single way she could get him.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He curled those digits into her with a satisfying little squish, and he cursed under his breath at it.

She was warm, tight, wet, around his fingers. She suckled his fingers like she needed him as bad as he needed her. By the looks of it, she did.

“I’m sorry.” She choked on a hitched breath. His fingers reaching knuckle deep and he brushed her little spot with the tip of his fingers.

Rowan cried out as he shot her.

“Are you?” He challenged.

She whimpered when he picked up the pace of his fingers brutally fucking into her with them. “I am!” She gasped, eyes clenching tight. She wasn’t gonna be able to focus if he was gonna have her falling apart before she even got a taste of him. Her legs were already shaking, and his thumb was fondling her clit in time with his rhythm.

She squealed between her teeth clenching her thick thighs together. “S-stop!” She begged, reaching back to grab to his arm. He retracted his fingers yanking her arm up behind her back much to her delight.

He pressed her up against the wall growling in her ear, “Do you want me to stop?” He asked, licking along the butter shell of it. "I drive you wild, you know you don't mean it."

She could feel his hard dick up against her ass, his pants still in the way. She whined at that, grinding the tip of his clothed erection between her plump little cheeks. “I want you to fuck me.” She demanded.

“I call the shots, I’m not done talkin' to ya yet.” Hancock hissed at her. Though, he was getting off on her slick body, the way she was gyrating like a bitch in heat. She was every ounce of beautiful as she was dangerous. She was each and every one of his favorite fantasies. “If that’s a problem we can stop this right now.”

“No,” Rowan gasped in horror, looking back at him. “Please, John.” She wiggled her pretty little ass at him. "Keep goin', puddin'."

He wanted to yank those glasses off her pretty fuckin’ face. He loved how dirty his name sounded coming off her swollen wet little lips. However, he couldn’t see her eyes. “Take ‘em off.” He said. “I wanna see those eyes when you’re sucking my dick for forgiveness.”

The words must’ve done the trick because she was on her knees in a moment’s notice, the glasses tossed across the room. Rowan was one cock slut for him, and it was his fault. She’d never knew how much pleasure a ghoul could ever bring to a human until now. She had no problem with it, either. She fumbled to undo his belt on his filthy jeans, his flip lighter bouncing across the floor when she finally yanked the rough rugged denim to his ankles.

She kissed the tip of his shaft fisting the base of it. She looked up at him - and fuck.

His length twitched seeing the twinge of submissiveness twinkling in her eyes under the dark emerald embers of sex. Those unique double irises stared up at him with twice the bedroom eyes. "You weren’t lying, were you?” Rowan purred, tonguing the slit with soft little laps. “You like seeing me on my knees, huh? These eyes get you off?”

Hancock could almost laugh at that. “You haven’t got a clue.” He chuckled darkly back at her. Right now, he hated where they went. He hated who she knew. It was them, it was greed, it was love, anger, fury, loss. He knotted his fingers in her hair the moment her sweet little mouth sucked him down further and further.

The ghoul had to catch his breath and count to three to keep from cumming within minutes of her getting started. It’d been so goddamn long since he felt her hot tongue working directions like lines on a map, drawing him closer and closer to climax-ville. “Shit." He hissed in ecstasy. "Your mouth is always so good…” Hancock drawled. Something about the slur in his voice made her tremble, and made her clench around her fingers she was pumping in and out of her. A constant need to be filled.

Rowan swallowed him right down, lower lip brushing his balls when he had to pull out in order to keep from cumming right then. “Please!” Rowan keened the moment she gagged free of his length.

His bare eyebrow quirked up. “I love hearing you say please when you’re still looking up at me.” He caught her jaw and kissed her, tasting every ounce of his filth in her mouth.

She stood with him, almost screaming from glee when he pinned her arms up against her back and threw her down over the bed. There was a moment of rustling when Hancock dropped the rest of his clothes, and he filled her one fluid motion. “Yes!” She yelled out, unable to help herself.

She had no control, she was just a weak little sex doll beneath Hancock’s weight. Rowan was well aware she could break free at any moment, but this was so, so much better. He wasn’t easy with her, he was abusing her poor little pussy, and that was fine. “F-fuck, fuck me!” Rowan yelled between clenched teeth, their skin clapping together in their room.

He loved the fact he could see her, the way her breasts were shoved up into her chest from how hard he had her pinned. Her round little ass arched out to meet his thick cock ravaging her loose, yet tight walls. “Who the fuck do you belong to, Rowan?” Hancock hissed in her ear, releasing her arms before they could go numb.

She bit on her inner arm clawing and yanking at the sheets until they sprung free of the mattress, grabbing at the post on the bed. “You!” She yelled out, feeling her first orgasm overcoming her. “Hancock!” She trembled, falling limp over his cock. He was relentless, continuing his assault despite the fact she was swallowed by empty screams.

“Bet you never been fucked like this, huh?” Hancock moaned under his breath, watching her heavenly face forever stuck in a silent flushed yell. She gasped after a moment yanking off of him with another shriek, hand going between her legs as if to silence the eaves of orgasm overcoming her. She was trying to hide the fact she was squirting.

He moved her hands to watch her finish, seeing the liquid pleasure running down her shaking legs. He helped to clean her with a rag for a moment when she whispered, “Did you cum?”

Looking up, he met her unique eyes seeing the sexual hunger in her double pupils. “Are you not done?” She shook her head standing up with a new gracefulness instead of the stumbling steadiness he was used to with her. She sat him down on the desk chair throwing her bright red hair over her shoulder as she looked him dead in the eyes, sinking down with his cock sinking deeper and deeper into the muscles of her ass.

Fireworks exploded inside him when she grabbed the desk on either side of him, riding him like her favorite pony. He wrapped his arms around her waist rolling up to meet her thrusts, sucking in her kisses like he swallowed whiskey. Her yells were loud and ruckus against his tongue, but fuck, he didn’t give a fuck at all. She was a savage bucking and fucking her hips down on him, gasps, pants, and groans so loud and breathless.

His cock was seconds away from roping all over the inside of her, stinging her tight plump ass full of his seed. “Don’t stop,” Hancock demanded suddenly. Her hips picked up a faster rhythm and fuck, his stomach was clenching so so so tightly. Grabbing his chin, she said, “Cum for me.”

There was something so fucking sexy about seeing her, dominating in the way she ordered him around. Like she was making him his bitch, or maybe playing on the kink her eyes gave him. He didn’t break the string of contact even when he felt his body go slack and he filled her. Slamming up into her, he impaled her making the biggest mess inside her he could. He saw her flinch, but right now, that was the least of his worries seeing her rocking down on him, milking it.

She fell against him rising up off his softening cock, arms taught and tight around his neck, refusing to let go. She needed him to erase them. Needed to remind herself of what love instead of hate felt like. She curled up slowly, her knees tucking up into her tender breasts, toes tickling John’s lap and resting between his legs against the torn cushion of the chair.

He kissed into her sweaty hair keeping his arms around her, tucked under his chin. He was shielding her from whatever demon threatening to lash out from the cage she kept it in. “What’d they do to ya, huh?” He rasped, brushing his fingers through her unruly hair. “What’d they do to my sweet little doe?”

At that, she smiled the saddest smile and got up, muttering, “I’m gonna clean myself up.” Leaving Hancock alone with the cold that presented itself upon the room.

Rowan didn’t mean to give Hancock the cold shoulder. She really didn’t. But dealing with trauma was always something she handled all on her own. Even after leaving the vault. She was sitting on the edge of the tub in a robe flapping the belt back and forth against her newly shaved legs. Hancock walked in, stepping in past her to get himself clean too. Naturally, the red-haired woman shuffled to sit on the seat of the toilet.

There was a weird silence before he broke it with, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She responded honestly.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.”

More silence.

She got up with such a light step she didn’t think he heard. It wasn’t until she turned to walk out she realized he was watching her from the gap in the curtain. “Rowan, where ya goin’?”

She froze, turning to look over her shoulder. He looked like a kicked wet puppy dog, the poor man. His glassy big black eyes looked so sad. “I…” She began. She sighed. “It was a little quiet that’s it.”

“Doesn’t mean I want ya to leave. I’ve spent enough time away from ya…”

Guilt plagued her like a sickness, tightening her gut with something so entirely restraint it made her wanna puke up whatever was stuck in her insides. She slowly perched herself back on the toilet, facing him now. “You’re right.” She whispered. “I’m sorry.”

He just gave her a smile, one she didn’t deserve. It was so full of love, so full of patience. For her. For her woes. For what they’ve been through. She hadn’t put too much thought in knowing that Hancock was going through hell too. He was hurting. She left him to deal with that on his own. “John.” She spoke urgently. He poked his head out of the shower just in time for his face to be captured in her hands, and her lips on his again.

“What wassat for?” He asked with that delirious goofy smile.

“I love you.” She told him with a returning grin.

“I will never be tired of hearing that.”


	24. Chapter 24

This side of Rowan Hancock had no idea if he was frightened by it, or more aroused. She walked out of the bathroom wearing the corset appearing leather bustier, her round breasts bouncing when she strode out like some sort of Wiccan goddess awaiting to use his sexual desires to sacrifice him to the dark lord. With the way, those holey jeans hugged her long legs and plump cheeks, Hancock might fuckin’ let it happen.

The mess of red hair fell over the goggles holding it back her eyes hidden behind lens too dark for him to see through. He frowned at that, but he wasn’t gonna push her to remove them if she was definitely still freaked out by her unique new eyes. She wasn’t ready for everyone else to see them, he guessed. “I don’t know if I wanna fuck you, or let you fuck me,” John concluded after a long moment of eying her up and down with eyes so filthy, she felt naked in front of him and covered in his baby juice already.

Just when he awaited the prideful bite of a dominant mistress, that familiar blush crept up her cheeks. She hid behind her hands, the red exposed from under it. Hancock laughed because that was his little doe-eyed beauty. “This was all Fahrenheit had…” Rowan muttered nervously, starting to vaguely wonder if his best friend did this on purpose.

“It looks damn good on ya.” He promised, kissing her so swiftly, but longingly, Rowan felt her breath leave when he retreated. To him, this woman was all wild and mystery, beauty, and grace, and strength. “I’d kill for ya, kid.” Hancock purred to her, taking her hands prying it away from her cheeks. He kissed the apples of them caressing her hands against his chest protectively.

Rowan’s hardened shoulders melted like butter under microwaves. “This heart ain’t got home without ya in it.” Hancock rasped to her, bringing her closer to sway with her a moment. She smiled, feeling so so beautiful under the way he touched her. He was soft with her, his voice such a warm hum that vibrated deep in her soul aligning each chakra one by one.

Tears built in the corner of her eyes, the glasses fogging. He didn’t need to see her eyes to know those hearty tears started. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind, that she experienced something so haunting she didn’t like speaking about it. She flinched when he hugged her from behind now. There are times she’ll freeze up when things get too far for her to handle in the bedroom, and he wanted to console that side of her, but he just couldn’t.

She wouldn’t let him, and he didn’t know for certain.

What he did pertain though, is that this woman had every generous quality of what love is. She was unconditional, she was soft but so so tough at once. She could look like the biggest sin, but the sweetest angel God sent down to rescue him. “Let me in, Doe…” Hancock begged, resting his forehead on hers. “Let me know what they did, let me pick up your pieces. Don’t lock me out.”

When he opened his eyes, she was frozen in place. He tried to get a damn good look past the lenses to see what her expression was. Her eyebrows were tied at an even level, she was poker facing it right now. And she now had a damn good disguise so he couldn’t tell what kind of thoughts she had accumulating in her head. “Don’t do that.” He scolded, hooking his fingers under the legs of her glasses.

She tensed for a moment her right hand jerking up to stop him, but she flexed mid-air catching herself fingers in a weird grabbing position, then lowered it down to her side. John reached over knotting the fingers on that hand together, sliding the glasses off muttering, “Having goggles on your head, but sunglasses on ya face looks a little bit weird, darlin’.” He admitted with a crooked smile.

It was so natural and genuine, and his fingertips brushed along her angled jaw. She turned to kiss the tip of his thumb when he brushed his palm up sweeping the mask away. Those large double pupil eyes peered up at him so intensely, and Hancock felt the Earth give away under him. Rowan was ethereal, something so beyond his understanding of how he got so fuckin’ lucky to be the one who got to love her, be in love genuinely with him,

“What?” She whined anxiously, searching his eyes with the familiar anxieties settling in. Her hands started to shake and she gripped his face, but he immediately placed his palms over the top of her fingers whispering calmly, “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous. I’m gawking because you’re… I…” The ghoul’s mouth wobbled open in an attempt to vocalize something so witty, so clever, something to never ever make the beautiful loving look in her eyes to go away. “I love you.” He muttered eventually.

He expected her to laugh at how long it took him to come up with such a simple phrase, but she was watching him such tender eyes his heartstrings yanked when she reached in and strangled his heart with her bare hands. “I love you too.” She whispered, hugging his neck tightly. It was the wrong time to admit feeling the hot heat of her breasts against him really wasn’t helping with the growing concern in his pants.

She seemed to catch on when she pulled back to kiss him and felt something prodding between her legs some. She met his eyes with the feigning look of innocence that remained even after all these years. He had a feeling that would always remain in her childish heart. “I’m sorry, it does it on its own.” Hancock shrugged. “Hard not to get dirty thoughts when ya lookin’ like sin but wrapped so sweetly.”

Biting the corner of her lips she reached down to fumble with the button on his jeans. “Let me help you then.” She whispered huskily, the want so strong in her eyes with ill intent to suck his soul righteously out of his body. John was dumb to say no.

“By all means, remind me what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

It was all fun and games until she looked up at him with those captivating eyes. His stomach sank, his dick twitched viciously, and that knowing smirk played on her mouth now knowing he was putty in her hands. Just bat those pretty eyes, he could hear her saying to himself. Tugging his cock free she softly kissed the tip of it, following the mushroomed head around, teasing him. Her lips were soft as cotton and warm as rads against his skin. She took her time tasting the head of his length, swirling her tongue around it before her lips swallowed it whole.

Her hot cavity was so wet and tight, and his cock felt so deprived even if they just fucked days ago. Rowan truly had that hungry effect on him, and he couldn’t decide if he both loved or hated it. Collecting her hair in his hands he watched her expert mouth going to town on his pulsing cock. “That’s it,” He encouraged with a rugged moan buried deep in his chest. Pleasure shot up his spine when her breaths turned to moans right when the tip of his cock caused space in the corner of her lips.

Her breath was hot, especially when she pulled off with a choking gasp after swallowing him down whole. He couldn’t help it then to wanna feel the tip of his cock hit the very back of her throat. It was a kink of his to see her eyes water, her mouth drools over the taste of his needing pleasure. He bucked into her mouth relentlessly savoring the wet suction perspiring from his precum dripping down her chin.

“Look at me.” He instructed, gripping her chin when he yanked his cock out.

Rowan sputtered feeling the raw burning in the back of his throat where he coated the back of her throat with his precum. She did as she was told despite it, feeling so open, exposed, but loved. In such a nasty place to be, she expected to feel humiliated. It was different when her man touched her hair like fragile bird’s wings, feeling the silky soft strands fall between his fingers. “I want you to look me in the eye when you swallow my cum.” He demanded. “Understand?”

The command was softly spoken, and it turned her on to know she could have such control with things so simple. She worked her mouth on his shaft twisting her hand around the bottom. Hancock almost lost it when her hands went to his balls and her lower lip brushed them- “F- _fuck_!” Hancock bellowed breathlessly, his whole abdomen giving out when he exploded without warning.

He could see the bubble of his cum spurting out from the corners of her mouth, he quickly released her hair to let her pull off in case she needed to breathe, but Rowan persisted adamantly. She was moaning around his cock now, milking it when his moans turned to breathless pants, and his hips were jerking. “Shit, Rowan, baby girl,” He chanted, lost in the afterglow of pleasure.

She swallowed rope after rope which seemed never-ending, and her moist warm mouth finished every drop. Suckling his member until it hurt. Hancock actually slumped against the foot of the bed not caring his pants were around his ankles, and his cock limps and spent, much like him. “What the _fuck_.” He muttered breathlessly, staring in horror at the pretty redhead still looking like the mother of succubuses on her knees, her eyes wide and pretty. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He moaned, a little pained when he attempted to adjust his hips and his dick wailed in repulsion.

She just smiled, and he realized just how much of a bitch he was for her. Her smile meant the world and more to him, the blush on her face made him feel alive knowing that it was him making it happen. She crawled forward kneeling between his legs muttering, “I really do love you.” She whispered, tracing his chin with her thumb when she cupped it in her fingers. “You remind me what it’s like to live when part of me doesn’t even feel… You bring me back from the dead.”

At that, the ghoul tensed up not expecting her to open up, especially with a whole sentence that shattered his heart so effortlessly. “What’ya mean, Doe?” He asked, fixing his briefs for the sake this wasn’t a conversation to whip your dick out for. He feared the answer, knowing she was fighting something he couldn’t defend her from. “What they did to you, it doesn’t change you. Your worth.” He promised.

He searched her eyes, then followed her face watching the corners of her mouth quirk up in a sad grin. “I wish I could believe you this time, but I-I…” She flopped her arms at her side muttering, “I’m some weird… mutated thing.” She muttered with tears building up in her eyes. “I died, babe.” Her eyes were wide, crazed with emotion so negatively potent it made him flinch back from her. “I saw death, I walked the underworld, and came back different.”

The ghoul swallowed, relentlessly searching her beautiful face for something other than the relentless sadness draining all the color from her face. Her eyebrows formed that crease - he quickly kissed it again, and again, and again. “Ya look fine to me, doll.” He cupped her jaw, thumb resting on her lower lip while his fingertips massaged the crown of her head, “We’ll make it through this together, all right? I’ll help ya.”

“What if I hurt you?”

The whisper was so paper thin his movements stopped, and her expression went from bad to absolute catastrophe. Fear danced across the frown lines in her youthful face, her lower lip wobbling with her walls crumbling some. “There’s something wrong with me. I don’t know what it is b-but I…” She flexed her fingers, breaking away from his touch. Hancock let his hand fall limp this time. “I feel it.”

“Good thing for the two of us, I like pain.” Sighing, he took both her hands in his own, lacing their fingers together. “Now listen here, dollface.” He kissed the back of both of her hands, meeting her worried eyes with the sultry dark eyes of his. “It ain’t all bad, it’s not the end of the world. That's come and gone."

He tucked her hair behind her ear kissing the apple of her cheeks. "You came back a little different, but ya breathin’, ya still sittin’ right here in daddy’s lap.” Cracking the light smile, Rowan felt whatever heaviness weighing on her lifting up. “It’s you and me ‘til the end, sunshine.”

Nate was going on and on and on about his extravagant adventures to Far Harbor when Rowan broke free of her little antisocial spell. He was in his dashing General suit which was truly a little rare. He adored his padded vault suit for whatever reason when he lounged around typically. He was leaning over his knee, a crooked smug smile crooked on his lips when his eyes so happened to dart over to her.

They moved away to eyeball the excited soldier chattering excitedly when he did a double take hopping up to his feet excitedly. “You’re up and about!” He cheered, all eyes of the group on her now. Rowan chuckled a little nervously attempting to hide in Nate’s giant shadow when John’s arms looped around her from behind, he anchored her back down.

The ghoul pretended not to hear the relieved sigh that subconsciously escaped her lips, and it only gassed up his ego that she felt the same way as he did when she touched him. So, so sobering, but the best rush of a head high when she kissed him.

“Yeah.” She muttered. “Figured I needed to get out.”

“You ever had chicken before?” The vault dweller gasped excitedly, running his fingers through his mop of messy dark hair.

“Chicken…” Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she muttered, “There’s rad chicken, they’re a little smaller than the kind you’re used to.” Blinking a few times, she faced him realizing she avoided the question altogether. Whoops. “No. I haven’t.” She stated.

Amusement was written across his face, something like childish bewilderment. “I found some in Far Harbor and-” He dipped down reaching into the black pot sitting on a makeshift table from an old tree stump. “Look!” He threw a whole cooked chicken breast in her face, grill marks, and all. Her mouth watered seeing the seasoning drenched over the moist fowl.

Her mouth watered and she snatched it away not even realizing how hungry she was for a home-cooked meal. Hancock laughed at her moving away from her just so she could eat. He walked over to the bar leaving her to sit with Nate. “how ya holdin’ up, squirt?” He asked, drawing an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side.

He tried not to look her in the eyes, seeing as how she was leaving the sunglasses back in the room, it seemed.

“I’m doin’ better. I’m gonna go with John back to Goodneighbor.” She told him, nibbling on the inside of her cheek. “It’s not that I don’t like being here, ‘s just…” She shrugged, growing quiet munching down on the perfectly grilled and marinated chicken. It was such a great change from Brahmin and cooked carrots. “I miss home.” She admitted.

The answering smile on his face let her know he didn’t feel the least offended. “”M all for free will.” He responded softly. He just squeezed her close muttering, “I’m glad you’re okay. I don’t think I’ve seen that man so terrified in a long, long time.” He whispered.

She swallowed thickly with guilt plaguing her again. “I can feel it. He hasn’t let me out of his sight since I’ve been back.” She admitted softly. “I don’t mind it, ‘cause I kinda need it, but I…” Licking along the front of her teeth the mushed up food in her mouth suddenly lost its flavor. She couldn’t even imagine swallowing it down. As if for emphasis, she gagged when a little bit of the white meat touched the back of her throat.

Wiping her mouth with a piece of cloth nearby, she spits out the food in it muttering, “I just wanna get past it. I’m already worried enough about what Curie found.” Her eyes drifted over to the ghoul conversing with the bartender, leaning nonchalantly, no doubt giving the two of them a little bit of alone time.

Nate followed her eyes asking as politely as he could, “You haven’t told him to have you?” He demanded.

“No.” Rowan sucked her teeth hissing between them shortly after, “You know how crazy it is to be like, ‘hey, I have some weird brain things. Let’s give us another reason to be paranoid’!” Rowan threw herself back seething, “So _what_ , my brain waves are abnormal-”

“Lorenzo Cabot had abnormal brain waves thanks to that weird _artifact_ he had.” Nate jeered, “You have _triple_ what he did, and we can’t figure out where the fuck it came from, or why, or when your peek coul reach." He pondered a moment, searching her curious face, "It's a little weird, but interesting-"

“ _Don’t call it weird!_ ” She shouted suddenly, catching John’s attention when she bolted up, the leather bodice she wore protesting, her ribs wheezing for breath. “It’s not _ghastly_ , I haven’t done anything yet. Maybe there's nothing different other than me being able to solve fuckin' math problems easier?”

Sighing, Nate grabbed her shoulders giving her a stern shake, “That’s what we’re worried about. I wanna make sure you’re here, so we can at least minimize the casualties if there is any-”

Her russet eyes bulged up wide with horror fussing, “Casualties? You expect me to go on some sort of killing spree?” Chuckling in disbelief she muttered, “I’ll be fuckin’ _fine!_ ” She threw his hands off of her howling through her teeth with a fury thousand miles wide, “Don’t come knockin’ if the hellfire starts, because you might be the first one I burn.”

And turned, leaving him staring after her with narrowed eyes. John watched the exchange, his bar eyebrows raised up skeptically. Something wasn’t right, stirrin’ shit up around them. “Well.” Hancock pats the small sack of caps he set on the counter greeting the man across from him. “It’s been nice. I gotta go and settle this score.” Taking the glasses of whiskey.

He turned to take a step back to trace Rowan down to wherever she stomped off to when he reconsidered. “Actually,” He turned, setting the shots down. “I’ll take a whole bottle.”


	25. Chapter 25

It was the oddest feeling, truly. Rowan sat atop one of the more less used guard posts watching the water flopping back and forth in front of the castle-like infighting siblings in a large nuclear family. She felt fine one second, then it was like she wasn’t comfortable in her own body, chills sprung up from the base in her spine to every single inch of her. Horrified, she whirled around to see the palms of her hands stark white where the tingling turned into a bubbling warmth. “What the fuck.” She mused, trembling to start in her fingers.

It was almost like the start of a slow burn. She recalled the time she burnt her hand back at Lake New Vegas when she and Boone were camping. The sudden crawling of her skin stopped, she let out a collective sigh of relief. Did she touch something she was allergic to- Her hands burst into flames that weren’t at all connected to her at all, but floated right above the curves and lines of her palms. Shock radiated through her body panic buzzing in her head when she remembered the conversation Nate and her had days ago. “No way…” She mused, closing her fingers watching the smoke burn and sizzle like she’d put water over it.

Grinning to herself, she glanced about seeing the usual four or five Minutemen that hung around at three AM. She threw her back against the front of the guard post so no one could see her, feet dangling over the edge. She focused again, thinking of the body of fire from her memory. Like the flick of a lighter, a spark flickering right before her very eyes illuminating her bright hazel eyes in the early morning hours.

Under the million eyes of the night, Rowan figured out her cool new talent for pyrokinesis. She thought she’d be scared of what things she’d begin to experience now, but this was cool. The surge of energy pulsing through her filled her with something so bold and potent those little bits of fear and insecurities from her abuse and capture seemed little to her, she had something greater in the palm of her hands. In her head. Scoffing in excited disbelief, she scrambled up hopping over the cemented post with a squeal radiating from the butterflies rumbling in her stomach excitedly.

“Hey!” Rowan cried when she bolted into her and Hancock’s bedroom, patting his cheek excitedly. Ghouls weren’t one to really be affected by heat or the cold too much, but fuck it felt like Rowan stuck her hands in pure fucking fire themselves. “Damn, babe!” John hissed, bolting up with a confused rumble, eyes slant from sleep, “What’s so important ya try to burn the rest of my skin off?”

“Sorry.” She apologized genuinely, kissing each side of his face. He wrapped his arms around her besides the fact, muttering, “Wassup, beautiful?”

He kissed at her shoulders, drowning out her excitement for her new talent buzzing down, preferring the more worshipping way his mouth trailed up her neck,,, Shaking her head, she pushed him back by the shoulders gently. “Listen.” She whispered excitedly, resting her forehead against his. “Look what I can do.” She urged, cupping her palms between the two of them. Closing her eyes for a moment she felt the familiar disturbance spanning through her like spider’s trailing webs throughout her whole being. She felt the warmth radiating from Hancock’s love radiating from each gentle kiss to her chin, lips, nose… Blue flames erupted between them floating right above the tips of her fingers. “Yo, _the shit?!_ ” Hancock yelped, flopping back with a surprised yelp that seemed feminine, even for him.

Rowan blinked nonchalantly, “They weren’t blue before. But that was cool.” She looked back up to see the ghouls in nothing but briefs back braced back on the headboard staring at her with wide eyes. “D-did ya just do some sorta _magic_ trick?”

“I think?” She muttered, crawling over to turn on the bedside lamps. “I was just sitting outside because I’d been feeling all weird all night, and it just like. _Happened_.” She explained.

“My hands got irritated, it was like a thousand bugs crawling all over me,” She stammered excitedly, Curie staring at her with something like bewilderment and excitement in her large eyes. “I just thought of like - fire. Like the one, I burnt my hands on when I and my ex were camping on one of our honeymoon date things.”

Hancock squirmed, ignoring the pang of jealousy in his chest. Rowan snorted from beside him, reaching up to take his hand as a means of comfort for the moment.

“Can I see?” Curie asked, hopping forward to rip her away with something that resembled a more personal curiosity than scientific. Her eyes sparkled like a child experiencing a new toy. Rowan forgot that sometimes she was still technically a child in synth years.

“It’s a little dangerous for ya to be that close though,” Hancock advised. “She burnt me earlier.”

Shooting him a warning glare with all four sets of eyes, he shuddered from how disturbingly haunting they looked. “Did _not,_ ” Rowan muttered, unaware of the sex-fueled issue. It was still taking him some getting used to. And now he had to answer a problem in his pants.

Reaching up, she started the fire in her hands, and the scientist gasped in both shock and wonder. “This is amazing!” Her heavy accented voice slurred when she curled herself around it like a selfish viper. “But…” Her eyebrows pulled together anxiously, looking back to her face, “These are not blue, yes?”

“That’s the thing,” Rowan explained, shutting the flames off like a switch. “I showed him, and they were.”

“Were you involved in sexual intercourse?” Asked the French woman ever so bluntly.

Hancock choked on a laugh, Rowan’s face screwed up momentarily. “ _N-no_ , actually.” She grumbled, rubbing the back of her neck while ducking under the curtain do red hair. Hancock relished when that cute blush settled on her cheeks. “It was just… Us, doing what we always do. I was sitting with him…”

“Maybe try touching her?” Curie asked softly. “Maybe it’s feeding off of multiple people’s energy?”

“Dunno,” the redhead muttered honestly, pulling her robe tighter around her with a soft yawn. “I’m not in the mood to do a full investigation on this kinda thing, though.” She told her. “We gotta head back to Goodneighbor sometime today.”

Hancock grinned at the reminder, “It’ll help us to scare off any fiends on the way back home, that’s for sure.” He muttered, lighting up a cigarette despite the dark glare it earned from Curie.

Rowan’s eyebrow cocked up like a challenge, her pretty little snarky mouth forming that crooked smile which meant she was gonna have some smartass reply, “Did the big scary Hancock not feel like whooping scary raider’s asses?” She taunted.

“I was gonna hope to save more energy so I can tear dat ass up back at the Statehouse.” He purred so seductively it silenced the cocky smile on her face. Her face fell so quick, that hunger rising up in her eyes again. “But, now kicking scary raider ass sounds more appealing.”

Curie made a disgusted face asking, “Would you mind taking that back to your private quarters? This is a place of science, not an adult movie set.”

Hancock laughed, while Rowan stared at her, miffed, “How do you know about those..?” he pressed like a slowpoke on newly stretched rubber.

The answering smirk in reply made disgust rumble from how dark innocent, sweet Curie just turned out to be.

It was so hard for Hancock to keep his hands to himself when Rowan was always right there. He knew he was being a little overbearing, but he’d be damned to lose this woman all at once again. She turned to him once the bedroom door closed leaving the two of them staring at each other in the dim orange light of the bedside lamps. He fell in love with how much of a glow Rowan had under these mood lights.

Cupping her chin, he kissed her slow and deep while his other hand undid her robe smoothly. Thankfully, all Hancock did was throw on a pair of sweatpants and some ratty Tshirt he was fairly certain belonged to her. Her tongue poked out from between her lips dancing so seductively around his mouth the ghoul felt pleasure ripple through him from just how fucking suave she made these make out sessions go from PG-13 to straight XXX.

He slid a hand up her thin tank top to grope her plump breast, her body responding on its own when he sank his teeth into her lower lip the same moment her palm dropped right down into the hem of his pants. “I love when you touch me,” She whispered ho sweet and huskily in his ear, her teeth nipping at the tender skin on his neck. She fisted his length stroking it in slow little circles. He answered with a rolling moan deep in his chest, and Rowan shivered. She loved when he made that sound. The muffled pleasure she could emit from him.

He nipped her upper lip, drenching his kisses in sweet, filthy nothings in her ear. His voice was tickling her with warm spurts of sexual desire drenching her favorite panties in her liquid pleasure. “Show me.” She told him, cupping her palm over his mouth. Her eyes were wild with a vivid hunger for him and his filthy lustrous desires.

He was quick to undress her and make love to her gorgeous body. Her breasts fell from her top flopping like soft little clouds on her chest. He dove forward to taste her erect nipples, answering her silent wants. He followed the sounds and pitches her moans took him. Right now, his hand was between her legs laying sprayed on the bed for him. He found her sweet little clit rubbing it in soft little circles.

 _“Yes!_ ” She hissed softly, fingers trailing over the back of his head and pulling him closer when he flickered the tip of his tongue against the tip of the bud in his mouth. He pulled off just to kiss her, to swallow those tasty sounds she was mewling out over her filthy tongue. Her breathing was getting harder, her abdomen kicking out the faster his fingers moved. He loved watching her stomach roll, the freckles moving with each swivel of her hips.

“Ya gonna cum for me princess?” He purred in her ear, her head bobbing. “Huh?” He urged, laying her back to watch her come undone fully. Her face was flushed, red hair halos around her perfect face, head was thrown back with her mouth open in silent pleas of release. She was gorgeous in every single wild little way, he wanted to ravish her until he couldn’t anymore.

Rowan felt her body throwing itself in vicious ways back on his fingers working their way in and out of her in a whole new pace she wasn't used to. But she'd be goddamned stupid if she even complained. She could fee Hancock all over her, smell his mix of cigarettes and whiskey, and gun metal. "Don't stop!" She begged, unashamed of how messy and wet his fingers were becoming.

She gripped his arm when she bucked up against his fingers with a keen so high he was worried the neighbors next door would come wonderin’ what was wrong. “I want more!” She begged, riding out her orgasm against his fingers. “N-need you. John, please.” She wrapped her legs around him sitting up to grab his neck and throw their lips together in a fiery kiss.

Gripping her hips, he turned her over to feel along the curve her back took, following the dip above her ass, feeling his thumbs in the dimples of her lower back. “You’re fuckin’ _beautifu_ l, Rowan…” He praised passionately, kissing along the middle of her back dragging his lead-heavy cock along the sheets.

Rowan caught her lower lip between her teeth when the tip of his cock brushed along the back of her thighs. She felt the bed dip when he positioned himself on his knees right behind her. Hancock wanted to take in the sight of her weeping womanhood, unashamed of how filthy it was to admire something like that. “You like that, huh?” She asked, shaking her ass back at him as if saying, ‘please’. “I wanna feel you so deep it _hurts_.”

He met her lucid eyes, grabbing the base of his cock and shoving it inside her heavily anticipating entrance. Rowan fell face forward from the sheer force of it and yelped out, “Oh my _God_ , yes!” She wheezed, Hancock rolling his hips forward to feel his cock deep and slow. He was taking his time making sure her sweet pussy felt every single inch of him, to feel her in every way he could.

He was selfish when it came to Rowan, keeping her body to himself, treasuring it. He wrapped her hair around his hand leaning over to taste the sweat preening on the back of her neck. “You’re so wet for me…” He cherished, picking up his pace when she slammed back on him. She wanted the rough, wanting sex. She wanted to feel everything so intensely it drowned out all of her self hate. Hancock loved her undeniably, he showed it each and every time making sure to get her off, to get her there.

Their skin clapped together when he started pounding faster into her pressing her hips down on the bed. Her plump cheeks bounced with each jackhammer thrust into her, and she was crying out from the most intense waves of pleasure she could ever feel. “Take me, take me!” She was crying out, biting down on the pillow to muffle the drool leaking from her yells.

The wetness of her womanhood was making obscene suctions sounds around his rock hard shaft pounding in and out of her at relentless speeds. He was worried about breaking her, but he wanted to keep those pretty screams comin’. “Choke me!” She sputtered suddenly, looking back at him. “Remind me who I belong to, I need it.”

He answered her right away, shoving himself down hard enough to impale her guts, and she came the second his fist closed on her throat. He could tell by the way she was shaking and squirting over his balls he rolled harder and harder against her beaten to hell lips. “You’re so pretty when you take my dick like this.” He purred in her ear. “You’re perfect in every way. Cum as much as you need.”

His fingers found her clit and he tickled it just the slightest amount sending Rowan into another row of orgasmic fits. He clapped his balls up against her ass a few more times until she was riveting, begging, “Cum for me, please, please!” Gripping at his arm when she sat up leaning against his chest. He hugged her tight, watching his cock slip in an out from between her legs until his cum bubbled audibly from her stretched entrance, slipping out of it in time for his cum to drip down over the sheets.

He kept his fingers moving on her clit, slower and slower until Rowan eventually calmed, and leaned against him feeling utterly tired now, but for the best reason. “We should probably clean.” Hancock reminded a distant buzzing in the back of her head thanks to the exhaustion rolling in. His knees were aching from being on them and the poor girl looked like she was gonna fall out at any second.

He picked up a discarded shirt wiping themselves off. Rowan’s actions became slower with nothing but sleep settling in her joints. “Let me change the sheets and we’ll put your crybaby ass to sleep.”

She swatted at him but kissed the side of his head when he reached past her to pick up the new one sitting in the closet of their room. The moment he flopped down on his back, she scrambled right up next to him kissing his chin, then his mouth until she was finally satisfied. Hancock would never ever get over how she kissed him like everyone was gonna be the last, maybe because they both knew with this life they lived, it could be.

“You cute little pain in my ass.” He grunted when he hugged her as tightly as he could. “How did ya wanna settle with someone like me, huh, kitten?”

“Not settlin’.” Her thick voice answered, happily tucked up like a bun in an oven, cushioned against his middle. “I fell in love with your pure heart and your charisma. You had me swooned from first sight.” She admitted. “You were trouble, you were sex, you were every taboo thing I didn’t need to be around.”

“I love when you talk dirty.” He drawled excitedly.

She giggled at him, swatting at his arm for the second time in the night. “But you were love, home. Every state, every person, I waited for you.” She walked her fingers up the back of his neck whispering tenderly, “I met my best friend,” She pulled back to look him in the eyes. “I love you, John Hancock.”

The answering grin was all teeth and everything pure in the world. “I love you, Rowan Fairchild.” He responded, kissing her squarely on the lips. Maybe everything was weird right now, but if there was anything they had, it was the even plain of their love for one another. As long as they kept that, they’d all make it out of here all right.

He listened to her breaths even out eventually, and he exhaled in relief. She was nude and soft in every way. Her legs had just been shaved, skin soft as silk when she turned over in his arms to lay on her stomach as she loved to do. He traced designs in her upper back with the tip of his fingers watching how his tickle only further relaxed every tense pinched muscle in the area.

He followed the thin line in the middle of her back until his finger reached a deep dip unnaturally put there. Frowning to himself, he carefully pushed himself up on his elbow to get a closer look. He pulled the lamp a little closer tugging the chord when he turned his other half up to get a better inspection on the needle mark there. “Well…” He muttered angrily, seeing multiple ones in that general area. He was surprised he didn't see them earlier when he was taking backshots with her.

He lay back, putting a protective arm over her middle, tucking her up near his middle when he kissed her shoulder. “Ain’t no one gonna hurt ya again.” He promised her. “I’ll skin them alive, each and every single one.” He promised, stroking his fingers down her hips. “I gotcha.”

 


	26. Chapter 26

A nice smooth guitar solo reached up the stairs welcoming Hancock to a new morning back in his beloved town. He turned over to pull Rowan close when, instead of finding the back of her head, he found it empty. The music must’ve woken her too, he realized. “Always a damn nice way to welcome in the morning’,” The ghoul groaned when he stretched his lean muscles.

He reached over to grab his flask, taking a shot of it to keep his headache from his current hangover down.

It always surprised him when he remembered Rowan lived a sheltered life originally, and she read everything she could get her hands on. Somehow, she ended up finding a guitar in one of the caravans and swindled it to buy it for way less than it was really worth. He walked past the downstairs common area when he spotted his favorite redhead bent over the instrument, tons of sheet music covering the floor before her. Lowering the coffee cup with the whiskey laced hubflower tea, he sashayed in to plop down next to her.

The moment she heard him enter her shoulders went rigid, and her eyes brightened four shades of green when she caught sight of him. “Hey, beautiful!” She chirped. The ghoul shook his head, thankful for the fact he couldn’t blush anymore, so she would never know how much he adored when she greeted him that way.

“I was gonna say the same to you, nice to see my new face mask is working.” Bumping her shoulder with his, he looked over to see the chords she was reading off an open, ripped to hell at the corners paperback. “You plannin’ on serenadin’ someone special?”

She flashed him a goofy crooked smile flashing her set of full white teeth, and his heart stuttered. He was elated to have her to share these small moments with. “I suck at singing, personally.” She admitted, the black body of the dark oak guitar a stark difference against one of his white t-shirts she made look so goddamn good. Her bright red hair was pulled up in a messy bun at the top of her head, and to Hancock, there wasn’t anything, or anyone, more perfect than her in that very moment.

He was quiet, just taking in the time with her. He unfolded the newly printed paper Piper released today and let the singing chords Rowan plucked be the only sounds between them. That was until a very high pitched shriek broke the air. Rowan’s head shot up anxiously, but the mayor seemed unphased by it, just sipping out of his large white mug. “Did you not hear that?” Rowan demanded, standing up so quick she stumbled from how fast her head spun.

“Jus’ Fahrenheit and Deacon.” He explained, thumbing the paper over to a new page. “She had to get him back for some kinda prank gone bad and-”

_“My fuckin’ wig!”_

_“Thump thump thump!”_ Marched angry footsteps down the Old State House stairs. "Who did it?!" Came the spy's high pitched whine that rattled every nerve in John's being. It got louder and louder the closer he got to them.

Throwing his paper down like a disappointed fifty-year-old dad, Hancock looked up to see his electric red blown out hair staring him dead in the eyes before the mayor could even identify the spy. Rowan was quick to erupt into the first fits of laughter before John could even think of anything remotely clever to whip at him. He decided the light bell-like giggles was enough of a burn to settle between them for now. “Who the fuck is responsible?”

Rowan’s smile so turbulently innocent it made the railroad agent think twice about spouting off. “I don’t know.” Smiled the redhead, tugging her shorts down over her thighs delightedly. “John just woke up, and I’ve been fixing this guitar all morning.”

John smirked because he saw the hesitation flash across the agent’s blue eyes. He saw the break in his composure when Rowan worked her magic so effortlessly and played innocent like she does, and he wondered if she did it on purpose all the other times now. “W-well, someone knows.” Deacon stuck his nose up high in the air. “Someone needs to come clean because some heads are gonna roll for this.” He seethed irritably.

Hancock snorted in bemusement, “Looks like yours was the first to start.”

Deacon yelled then, bellowing a throaty squeal resembling a gay man’s frustrated fit of rage.

Rowan followed the footsteps echoing outside until the front doors slammed shut. Shaking her head in disbelief, Rowan turned her unique eyes onto John with the familiar sense of home radiating from the loving way her eyes twinkled like reflecting diamonds. John reached over to cup her cheek, pressing his thumb lovingly right to the apple of it muttering, “Play me somethin’.”

“You prefer more jazz, don’t you?” She wondered aloud, turning now, her full middle to face him so the sound waves could go right to the dark pair of wandering eyes watching her so close, like a magnifying glass.

“I,” Began Hancock dramatically, kissing her forehead as he went back to sipping his morning tea, “Am interested in whatever it is you do. You never fail to amaze me, Doe.” And he flashed her the most charming smile he could muster.

“You’re just trying to get your dick sucked!” She bellowed in giggles, and the ghoul chortled along with her. “Is it workin’?”

She shoved him playfully before picking up and playing a slow melodious harmony that flowed through the air like wind chimes in the steady calm of a hurricane. It reminded Hancock of time nearby, but so far. He watched her fingers walk across the frets, striking the chords that sang to his soul. He couldn’t help but marvel at the concentration as the thing beer-cap-made-guitar-pick strummed along with the metal strings.

She swayed with words she hummed along too, and he fell in love with a scene he held dear to him. The first time he woke up next to her and realized she had come back for him. She returned to Goodneighbor, still kissed him with the same passion, and still held him like it was their first date. Faintly, he was certain this song was being played that one night it threw a sick party-

His mind went blank when her fingers grew to a stop, and she was watching him. “John, how scared were you when you thought you’d never see me again?” She asked, unable to stop the sudden question from migrating to the tip of her tongue. “You seem to take it so well, I just…”

The ghoul’s face twisted up in something like uncertainty as if the topic made him uncomfortable. Oh well. “You’ve been clinging to me, refuse to let me out of your sight. I don’t mind it by any means, but…”

“It scared the fuck outta me.” He confessed so openly it caught her off guard. Her eyes widened, and she slowly set the guitar so there were fewer things to be between them finally. “I rushed in an’ I saw you, jus’ layin’ there…” The ghoul swallowed, looking away to a middle distance away from her. “I thought the worst, an’ I wasn’t ready for it.”

She stared at him, reaching over to cup his face. He turned more of his cheek into her hold speaking somberly, “Scared me to death, Row…” He kissed the tip of her nose muttering, “They’d banged up my baby, and I wanted to murder them all.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.” She admitted. “It sounds dumb, I knew you’d come for me, but-’

He silenced her words with a kiss trying with every ounce in his very being to keep her from finishing whatever impure thought she was gonna finish. “But you’re right here, kid.” he reminded her, kissing her sturdier again.

She sighed with a tiny crooked smile muttering, “Yeah, guess you’re right.” She complied, leaning her head on his shoulder just taking in his love for one more second before he had to be an adult and run the town as a mayor does. “Do ya gotta go put ya big boy pants on right now?” she whined.

“Oh, C'mon, puddin', Ya got pals waitin' to see ya.” He reminded her with a chuckle. “Quit bein’ a hermit and go hang with Fahrenheit. She might need your help protecting her from Deacon.” He countered optimistically.

Maybe it was a long time away. But this town seemed a tad bit darker than she remembered. Walking the short trek from the State House to the Third Rail she recalled moments when she was younger when Hancock fucked her without abandon to the sound of the live band playing out in the streets. She was blown away on the jet, wearing nothing but a bra and ruined panties put on backward, cigarette ashes covering herself, Hancock, and the bed.

It wasn’t exactly bad, but she was young and dumb to the tricks Hancock pulled on her to get in her pants undeniably. She dipped inside the walls the Memory Den immediately going to check on Amari. Irma greeted her with a smile - one that quickly to dwindle to amazement when she spotted her mutated eyes. “Oh, dear,” She mused in a soft whisper. “Amari said they were running experiments on you, but your eyes…” The elderly, yet graceful blond woman walked forward her fluffy red train of her rob pulling behind her like an old-school elegance. Her blue eyes narrowed when she dipped down to observe Rowan all for herself. “Can you see, darling?” she purred, moving her finger before her eyes.

Huffing out an irritable little muffled, “Yes.” Like a grandchild under their grandmother's probing question. “I came to check on Amari, truly,” she admitted, peeking over her shoulder to the direction of the doctor’s little lab.

Irma’s lips pursed together in consideration and Rowan’s stomach tumbled nervously, suddenly wondering if the Goodneighbor medic hated her for putting her in that situation. “I-if she’ll have me, that is…” She mused under her breath, moving away from the sad in Irma’s eyes then.

“Let the child in, Irma, she’s been through enough. Don’t drag out her anxieties.” Came the familiar sharp as a whip-snap of Amari’s ever so soothing voice. Elated, Rowan bound forward throwing her arms around the medic before she could stop herself from projecting so quick. The doctor’s breath hitched up in her throat, not expecting the hug from the redheaded child. But slowly, Amari’s arms closed around her in return.

“I’m glad you’re okay, I-I’m sorry, you got dragged in…” Rowan pulled away just to search her face, still seeing some yellowing under one of her eyes, stitches present in the left side of her lower lip. She saw the same wonder in Amari's eyes as she did in Irma’s. “Yeah, got some cool new eyeballs.” she chuckled weakly.

“It’s amazing and unique.” She added with a sort of motherly optimism. “I’m just glad you’re alive and well. Last time I saw you… We didn’t think you’d make it out.” She added somberly. Placing a comforting hand on her shoulder she added, “Thank you for helping me out.” She murmured.

“I couldn't have you suffering because of me.”

“It was never your fault. You had no part in any of this, it’s part of the dangerous life we all lead out here. We’re safe.”

“They’re still out there,” Rowan said immediately. “They just fled for the time being.”

“We’ll be ready for when they return,” Amari promised her. “All that matters is, we know what we’re up against. Goodneighbor never backs down from a fight when it’s been threatened.”

Rowan wasn’t much for showing out, but for the past few hours she watched vendor after civilian with petty complaints, to a few spent out chem heads just looking for another fix passing in and out of the State House. She didn’t need to see him know he was stressing already. Fahrenheit seemed to catch onto her plan when from upstairs in the office where she leaned, doing her job of guarding the good ol’ mayor, she heard Rowan rummaging in her trunk.

She walked just across the upper hall, knocking on the door to Hancock’s bedroom. “Ya naked in there, pyro?” She called, earning a snort from the ghoul busy bent over paperwork in the office. “If so, I got fifteen caps if I walk in on you.”

Silence came from the other side of the aged wooden door. “It wouldn’t be walking in if I invited you.” She replied incredulously. “And no, I’m not. So _whatever_ idea you had to get your _caps-_ ”

The redhead kicked the door in smirking boldly when the doors swung open revealing Rowan in black tights, matching garters around her thick thighs, and pretty lace panties.

But no top.

The guard smirked.

“Are you fucked?!” The auburn haired girl shrieked, throwing her arms across her chest with both disbelief and horror written across her face. _“Dude!”_

Hancock bolted up to get a look at the scene, and honestly found the humor gone when he saw the little bit of thick muscle swelling from the top of her tights. He followed the track from her legs to her thin midsection counting each ab there, all earned from flexing around the dangers of the wasteland the good ol’ USA remained. “I’m likin’ what I’m seein’.” Hancock purred, the blush of embarrassment now turning to one of lust.

It traveled down her neck to her chest, and Hancock chuckled flipping a cigarette up into his mouth. “You guys disgust me.” His bodyguard sneered while simultaneously yelling, “MacCready!” And bounding up to the sniper’s nest up at through the old chimney. Rowan used one of her arms to hide the breasts threatening to flop out, using the other to shut the doors with utter urgency.

Oh, no. Hancock wasn’t gonna have it? Just as she shut the other door the toe of John’s boot caught it. He pushed himself through it, kicking it closed, and kissed Rowan as his life depended on it. Her hands abandoned her chest, going to hold his face instead. “You got things to do,” She whispered into his mouth when he nipped her lower lip.

“You’re more important to do first, doll face.” He whispered, dragging those sharp love bites down her neck. He liked the response he got, especially when her bare warm breasts squished up against his still clothed chest. “It’s so hard to say no when ya look like a mothafuckin’ masterpiece all the time.”

They both pretended Hancock’s hand cupping her mouth was enough to muffle the soft choked keening coming from her. His cock was ravaging her at unholy speeds, having cum so many times her head was nothing but mush at this point. “Faster,” She begged still, taking his cock up the ass like it was meant to.

He didn’t know how he got so blessed to find such a freak like her who genuinely loved him, but he stopped questioning when she choked on his dick without him having to ask. Their sex life was probably the most spontaneous, and it was never ever boring for him. Rowan pulled off his cock with a solid wet pop that made him shudder all over.

She turned him over, straddling his lap as she purred, “Let me ride, daddy.” She purred, sucking his thumb into her mouth when he cupped her chin.

“If I ever tell ya no,” He panted, hands going to rest on the hips rotating, her womanhood taking his thick veiny member nice, slow, and deep. She was milking him on purpose. If she continued like this he was gonna make a mess all the way inside her. “Put me out, I’m goin’ feral.”

Rowan giggled, and his cock twitched at the seductive sound. Watching the fluid motions of her going up and down making it look like a whole fucking dance. Her red hair fell at her waist, tickling his chest when she picked up her movements and her wet cunt was twerking back fast enough for his cock to break, but fuck, “Like that, sugar.” He actually begged. “Ride it just like that.”

She kept on going, loving when he gave her the upper hand entirely. Her black stockings were definitely ruined by him cumming all over her thighs during their messy first round. “I love having you hot and bothered, I like it when you cum all because of me.” the words were dark and disgusting, but so naturally sexy coming off her black tongue.

“That filthy mouth of yours is gonna get you in more shit than you can handle.”

“Good thing _I_ swallow.” She grinned like that was something you could casually boast at the dinner table about.

Hancock chuckled and muttered, “We’ll see.” He taunted, snapping his knees up fast enough to jerk his cock up into her hard enough for her to shout, “John!” Like he found the magic button inside her.

He snapped up into her, finding that same angle, and she came undone like a shattered glass building. She clenched onto his shoulders her mouth open in a silent scream, Hancock’s hands keeping her pinned down on his balls as he relentlessly jackhammered up into her. “Hold on tight, I’m gonna breed you like the ghoul slut you are.” He groaned out in a slur, his head falling back.

Between the combination of her orgasm and his thick hot ropes of cum hitting those special muscles deep in her walls, Rowan was overwhelmed with so much pleasure she actually hurt. Her stomach tightened uncomfortably making her flop over, thighs quaking as John slowed his hips, riding out his finishing climax. “You’re my whole world, Rowan…” Hancock told her, turning to kiss the side of her head. He pulled out of her not caring for the mess that was easily pooling between their legs

“I haven't heard you say anything like that in a while.” She admitted sadly. “I was startin’ to think you changed your mind.”

“Never in a million years would I trade out my little ray of sunshine for anyone.” He scolded her, scarred up fingers going through her nappy head. “I love you kid, without a doubt.”

She kissed his chin sitting up to look into her favorite pair of black eyes. She stroked his cheek with the tip of her pointer finger drawing out, “I’m happy you decided I was the one you wanna spend your days with.” He turned to kiss her finger, a warm smile curving on his handsome playful face.

She really, really owed this man a lot. Everything, really. “You don’t try to mute me.” She whispered, the realization set in. “Instead you just… No matter what flow I take, you’re… Right there… You go with the flow.” She knitted their fingers together, feeling the pulsing veins with blood still running under his scarred up skin. Still bleeding, breathing, feeling. Human.

His large heart was proof enough that ghouls had the most humanity out of all of them. “My mama told me _one_ thing,” Hancock began, fidgeting inside the bedside drawer for his extra pack of cigarettes. “People will change a lot in their life. True love will _always_ be there, through every reinvention of oneself.”

Thumbing the cancer stick between his lips, Rowan excitedly snapped a flame at the end of it with an answering giggle when the mayor’s bare eyebrows pulled together in confusion at the action. He took a small quizzing drag from his cigarette, humming in amazement when the nicotine punched him in the back of the throat. “It’s cool, huh?” Rowan smugly laughed, rolling off of him just to grab her jet inhaler from the chem table across the room.

She lay next to her boyfriend, head on his chest as they took in the drugged silent room around them. They listened to the music playing from the ruckus streets of Goodneighbor to the settling heartbeats of one another. Hancock was just grateful to still have her here next to him to relinquish these quaint moments like always. “You’re somethin’ else.” He told her affectionately, kissing her forehead.

She laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Just because that’s what the drugs always had her doing. She was finally worry-free, at least for a little. John couldn’t stop himself from joining just because she made him so goddamn happy all the time, in little ways. He loved the way how even now, she was kissing his face sloppily because she was still chuckling at absolutely nothing at all. “I love you.” She squealed in delightful giggles, and he hugged her head to his chest in order to muffle her.

“I love you too, dummy.” He replied, hiding his face in the top of her hair. She erupted into chuckles which soon faded, and it was just the two of them taking in the afterglow of the night. Neither were tired, and they needed to get up and get dressed to continue his plans for meeting up with Fahrenheit and Chuck for some drinks and darts or a steady hand of poker.

It was when he looked down to the beautiful redhead laying there tracing the scars on his skin, and he thought it was a better idea to pretend they just got back from the bar just so he could snog her some more. She was easily talking him out of the night out, all without having to open her mouth. “I gotta get up to shower.” He mentioned, tracing the stretch marks on the back of her thighs, playing with the little bit of cellulite there, too.

“That sucks,” Rowan said, tightening her arms around his neck when she hugged him. “‘M not movin’.”

Hancock laughed and playfully bit her cheek with nothin’ but pure happiness etched on his face to have such a dime hanging onto him.

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for a hiatus. Real life is kicking me down and I have no muse. I'm sorry.

Wrapped in a crimson robe, Rowan gazed down at the cup in her hands following the steam radiate from her Hubflower tea in the mug she cupped in her frosty palms. John dipped out to go engage with some kind of chem dealer, and she wanted no part in the cryptic part of Goodneighbor’s industry.

Amari didn’t need her aid at the Memory Den, so she had to confess to feeling relief. She didn’t wanna be around anyone right now. Driving people away was a hard habit to break, and she felt smashed in so many kinds of ways. She sat in front of a heater, encased in the most luxurious garment the mayor could get his hands on, and still, nips ran down her spine from how naked she is.

Sharp, elastic bolts of icy lightening assaulted her palms making her runty fingers tingle, she shimmied them to lose that bite.

She breathed out a heavy sigh tipping her head back when the warmth of tears merged up in her large doe-like yellowish-green eyes again. She didn’t like having ailing days. Every distressed day always goes downhill quicker and faster and swifter than she could ever think to interpret it. She couldn’t get the sneering stares out of her head, she stared into her own brother’s cores and felt his fists around her throat. It was like she never left that sorry fuckin’ vault.

His hands were like frozen steel coiled around her esophagus, his statements were like bacteria drifting in from every single source he could it to her. Yet, with all of every single purpose she had to understand she was a horrible person, there was that silly ghoul with that gaudy red coat of his. He felt her like she was a fragile piece of art gathering dust above his mantle. He caressed her as if there’d never been another minute. He carried her when she didn’t feel in one piece.

She felt like she was standing on a bridge between love, fear, and silence. Her demons drove her there. Hiding the hurt, concealing the aches that followed her physically since her weird... Reform. She minded too much now, she could sense too much. She peered down at her hands knowing there was a sinful endowment in her once sacred body that had been defined only by the outrageous war of the Commonwealth, wasteland, and her lovers.

It felt empty when she savored death, and lived barely purely like some lab rat. All for experiments. Except... She had a reaction, flexing her fingers, turning her hand over, once, and again. It looked the same until she remembered just thinking of fire sets herself aflame.

Her heart was swollen with every thought operating through her head. Every happy memory consumed with the sparks of what she knew now. She loathed how she giggled at her brother’s antics. She rebelled there were times they got along. He read to her, one night, she remembered. She gagged out a weep as she laughed. Rowan was eight, suffering, and their foster mother was already asleep. She and Alex shared a room somewhere when the commons weren’t upstairs. She was up coughing, sniffling, and at one point whining because her head felt thirteen sizes too large and sleep was nowhere to be detected.

“I can’t stand when you sit up crying like a baby.” Alex moaned. Blinking her tears way, little Rowan sat up drawing her blanket to her chin. Her legs sat spread eagle under her fluffy comforter, “I don’t feel good, bubby.” Was her only muffled answer, the sobs starting like a growing signal.

Her cringed, tumbling over in his little-footed pajamas to coast in bed next to her. “Read.” He commanded, throwing one of her many bedside books at her. He sat next to her, offering some kind of company. She rocked her head muttering, “Hurts.” and dug her puffy eyes into the sleeve of his arm. Alex was a teenager now, having no time for his child sister to follow on his heels. He made it known when she ran up to him after school.

He bullied her too, him and his friends. Shouldering her around, launching insults at her. It was always wicked when the doors were sealed, and he beat her just because he could. He sighed hard enough to rattle her off. “Grow up, Rowan.” He hissed, glaring her down with strong aversion. She fussed and turned her back to him when she heard his voice after a hesitating moment. Disoriented, she tucked the blanket to her jaw hearing him murmur a character’s familiar name.

Reading, she realized with a smile, Alex is reading to me. The two sat in a cozy little stillness while his voice hummed to her in their bedroom. She identified waking up her bed empty, but the book was finished. All four hundred and fifty-three. She’d only been on page fifty. They never addressed it again after.

Beaming back to reality, her bewailings were out of control. Rowan’s head was pulsing with the massage of rolling knuckles from the inside of her skull. Her brother was assisting with the institute. Her brother turned her into some fucking gamma, pyromaniac. What had she done to him? Why? Right. She’d been the reason her parents died in the first place. She’d been born. A child was the massive target, at the time. Before Nate cleaned the Commonwealth of their stained bloody grounds.

Wiping at her wet face, she sniffled hard enough to suck whatever snot was running down her upper lip to shoot in the back of her throat and make her choke. Catching her breath, she leaned forward with her face in her hands, elbows on her knees with an exasperated mumble. She wanted all of this confusing hazes to end. She went through the ends of the Wasteland, had seen death, life, beauty, and the most hideous of people, still, she noticed all the genuine it was, hidden under the nuclear rubble.

The world was a bleak, lifeless bastard, but she found kindness and love. They were always present, but… She couldn’t find it in her to truly love herself. It was hard to, especially just when she got comfortable with herself, her body… It got reduced to something otherworldly. It got touched, it got dehumanized… Rowan shuddered to feel their hands in places they shouldn’t be. She could still feel the hot breath puffing on her ear from when she was in a drugged haze, connected to IVs, one on both sides, neither filled with the same thing. She was hoping one was water, but the oozing green in the left made her panic.

Fuck, she hated it, she couldn’t leave. Digging her nails into the spaces above her eyebrows, she felt the scream mounting up in her stomach, building through her chest. She could feel the pulsing gooey fluid streaming acid through her veins. Her whole being throbbing as a whole, veins popping up against the thin shield of skin in a costume of blue and purple spiderwebs aching to break free. “Go away…” she moaned miserably, the tears never ending.

She slumped on her side, mechanically giving up because emptiness felt right. There was zero she could do, drained beyond what she formerly was. She really, really fucking hated herself. Hated what she’d been through, hated the fact her brother of all people gave her every ounce of reason to despise him and yet… Yet, under it all, her naive admiration for him still remained.

She had a too forgiving heart in a world that was never meant to be in the first place. She was frail. Any bit of remaining stability of her walls crumbled like pebbles and dust. She wasn’t really wasn’t alone in a world where no one gave a flying fuck. She had no reason to believe she was yet… Yet she felt it.

All over.

It happened even when Hancock was around, and it made her feel so blameworthy. She was crying with her full chest now, the tightness in it making it laborious to breathe, eyes red ringed like she’d been puncturing herself in them all afternoon. Hancock offered her something so bizarre and honest, she wondered if something wicked would yank him from her too.

He expanded his town, himself to her without inquiry, from the get-go of catching his eyes from across the shallow vault cafeteria. His arms were so refreshing, his eyes so lovely and cloudy with passions always floating in them.

He could be as composed as he’d like to pretend, but he was a man under the scary exterior of his scarred up ghoulish Outlook of his. He cared a lot, his heart was so much bigger than he’d ever give it credit for. She saw how he became fifteen times lighter when he walked in from Goodneighbor and spotted his people.

The pep in his step was like a school kid getting to his favorite teacher. She almost felt… Guilty, for pulling him from his office. Though, he told her and Nate himself he loved getting out. Sniffling, she used the sleeve of her robes to wipe under her eyes in an attempt to pull herself together. The hard pain in her chest was still there, though.

Her feet were like tiny pitter patters when she traded the wooden floors to tile instead. She didn’t look in her reflection, not liking who’d stare back at her. She ran the water and started the radio assembling up behind the toilet. Noise, even constant kind, was better than the reserve she was starting to hide in. She reached over to switch the tap on, abruptly not feeling the fever of scalding hot water.

She needed something so much…

Rowan wanted the warmth of Hancock’s arms encompassing her but didn’t wanna speak. She had so much pent up from her rocky couple of weeks, days. Hell, years. She heard the statehouse doors open, and she hurried to shut the bathroom entrance. The heavy lazy saunter of Fahrenheit reached her ears. Which meant John would be around at any second. “Fuck…” Rowan complained, sinking down on the porcelain throne, watching the middle while her thoughts took their toll.

She hadn’t even apprehended that the breaks started again. She just let them roll down her cheeks, the murmuring outside of the door devastating her further. She wanted to kick away from everyone she struggled so stubbornly to let in. “Hello, beautiful!” She heard Hancock’s voice sing out to the dry bedroom.

Fahrenheit snorted, “I told you she wasn’t here, either.” Her more sophisticated boots carried her to where the crack at the bottom of the door lit up the bedroom with faint yellow light. She knocked on the bathroom door, “Yo, Pyro, you in there?”

She sniffled, “Yeah.” She beckoned back, flinching at how nasally and broken her voice struck out. Dead give away that she’d been sobbing for the past hour.. The awkward moment of solidarity following her phrase just confirmed they could hear the claws of depression sinking its ugly way into her throat. It scratched up any consonant and vowel that threatened to shout out for guidance.

Hancock’s voice sailed through the thin cracks in the door, “Hey, you alright?” His tone took that lustrous concern. The tender warmth like oozing warm chocolate over an ice cream sundae.

She opened her mouth to acknowledge when a new voice broke in, “Who are we gonna punch in the throat?” Nate demanded. She hadn’t even heard him infiltrate the room.

“And where did you come from, pawn?” Fahrenheit drawled with mockery. “Need help from the king?”

Hancock, out of the three, got a brain when he greeted so brightly, “Where the fuck did you come from?”

That alone was enough to make Rowan giggle just a few. Everyone outside the door must have heard it because there was stillness. Then, a knock, “Just tell them you’re taking a shit and not trying to have a therapy session.” Nate said, and there was a crooked smile on his face. “Because our Rowan speaks to us when something is wrong.”

He wasn’t wrong, she was so fine-tuned as much as she was intelligent, and she wore her heart on her sleeve. Especially for them. “There’s somethin’ wrong…” She admitted, her voice dropping feeling the intense wave of melancholy rushing over her head once again. “There’s a lot wrong.” and she bent over, lengthy hair hanging nearly to her toes when she leaned them on the tub so she could roll curled up on her knees.

“Let us in.” All three said in union.

“Come out and play,” Hancock added, leaning his forehead against the bathroom door.

She sighed and threw her feet down on the tile crossing over with lazy slap of them until she worked the door open. They all hovered around her at an angle like one of those old political cartoons. She felt so miniature. Hancock wasted no time in getting his arms around the tiny sobbing redhead, though he had a crooked pensive smile when her robe matched the color of his ol’ duster.

Fahrenheit was gone within a second, probably going to set up some targets the two of them could beat the fuck out of later. Nate though, quiet, was there. His hand lay on her back though she couldn’t exactly feel it too much. Rowan felt so fucked in the head for sobbing, waiting so, so long to finally explode. All because the institute was still out there.

Fuck, Rowan was frightened.

She started to shake, almost collapsing all under her own weight. But her favorite ghoul held her steady, and it was something so genuinely beautiful from someone on the outside to watch. Nate had seen Hancock with multiple partners, seen him in every position you could think, but he never saw that softness etched in the lines of his scars, he didn’t see how tender this little redhead truly made him. When he hurt, so did she. And it was no different for him when Rowan was crying to him during a breakdown.

The way her eyes were clenched in an attempt to squeeze out those fat crocodile tears was shadowed in his face. His chin rested on top of her head, eyes shut with silent misery that he couldn’t be there to wrench out the sorrow. Nate hated that too, especially the first time he saw Curie cry. “What’s goin’ on, Row?” Asked John, genuinely apprehensive when her fingers clenched tighter in his shirt to keep him closer.

His eyes darted to Nate’s a silent conversation they both understood. Well, ya know, a lot of people tend to get upset after being abducted and their genes rearranged a little, his expression said.

Well, what can I do? I’m doin’ the best I can. Said the darting shrewd glare of the ghoul, You come up with anything, dumbass?

Rowan stirred a little, unaware of the two. When she looked back up at him, his bare eyebrows were rose when he saw how pretty she looked even with her eyes full of nothing but emotions so dark. It was cataclysmically something so goddamn enthralling as it was disconcerting to scrutinize. “I…” She began, eyes desperately searching his like he had answers. It stopped his heart cold in its tracks.

“I don’t understand…” She managed to choke out. “Why me? Why wasn’t I good enough? I-I always - I... I get I wasn't - wasn't his, b-but... ' She struggled, feeling delirium at the tip of her brain waiting to combust. “And still. Still, my own brother doesn’t love me. He tried to fucking kill me.”

“He did.” Came Nate’s frigid response that hinted at a darker pit of anger Nate had too. “It isn’t you, though,” He quickly reassured her after John glared from over her head. Rowan turned to look at him now, and her age showed now. She was still a lot of that kid they found, no matter how much growing, and learning she did. She was still bound by a past she tried to forget about, outrun, and now here it was all back again.

And here she was, back at phase one. “Well,” Nate began slowly, carefully prodding at the paper soft edges of her little emotional bubble, looking for a way to pop it and make her spill it all out at once. “You don’t need him. You hurt because you want his love,” he said it so casually, and it felt like her darkest secret had been revealed to the world. The narrowed eyes confirmed it.

It was something Nate knew well though. Two hundred years went by quick when you were in a freezer for a good while. He woke up two hundred years later with a whole year’s worth of information. His pa wasn’t from a generation where they spoke their feelings or worked it. So he knew daddy problems well. It explained a lot too, though he was never ever in a place to judge. “There is no way that’s all it is, though,” Hancock spoke finally, cupping her chin and wiping her tears with his thumbs.

She turned to look up at him and found her home, her comfort. She didn’t wanna talk anymore, she didn’t have the energy. “I-...” She felt hesitant because she remembered Nate saying when the institute was first around they had these weird ravens flying around, watching, recording, reporting. Maybe he hadn’t noticed, but there’d been a few ravens here and there she caught. She didn’t feel safe speaking out loud. “I… Didn’t exactly love me then. So now…” Rowan blushed fervently, looking down at an angle under her dark red hair. “With… Weird eyes, weird powers… I'mma fuckin' walking freakshow!”

"Ain't nothin' wrong with a freak show, Row." Hancock grabbed her chin then, leading her to look at him. “The self-hate is tenfold though.” He finished for her, the troubled grief in his eyes enough to silence her own. He looked torn apart by the ravenous teeth of his dark thoughts at night. “That doesn’t make ya, though. The looks part, don’t at least.” He added. “Now to me, you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever lay eyes on, but that’s because I know that big ol’ heart ya got in there, too." He kissed her forehead, letting his mouth remain there. "When ya find the right people, the amount of nasty won't matter. They'll still find ya beautiful. Took me a while to digest that when I went ghoul myself."

Something in her felt better because she forgot who was right there in front of her. "At least you kept your voluptuous skin." He said, and she smacked him despite the smile growing on her face. He really was the most ravishing gentleman she ever met. He had a glow to him with a shotgun in his hands taking on every bastard like he was really fearless. She stroked his cheek with the back of her hand muttering, "You still have yours too, just a little different."

"You're blind." He concluded. "Your perspective is always so vibrant."

“Explains what made you attracted to Hancock.” Nate chuckled, John flipped him the bird as passionately as he could muster. “But he’s right, so what you got a few different features on you. Rowan, we care you’re a little... Different." He explained. “We didn’t care if you lost an arm or leg, or if you ended up being a one-eyed purple people eater,”

Rowan giggled, and Hancock felt the heavy lead weight easing off his pillow-like heart. It was genuine because he felt her fingers tickle his lower back from where she clung to him like a belt. “We care because you’re breathin’, kid.” He told her with a warm crooked smile. “I don’t think any of us would have ever been okay again if our favorite little adventurer suddenly disappeared.”

“We feared no answers.” Hancock vocalized for the first time. As much as the statement alarmed Rowan, the general knew there was so much truth to it. “Ya just… Up and went. They messed up when they grabbed Amari, left a few loose ends for Kent to find.”

Nate shrugged, “Fahrenheit got a good few drifters loosey goosey and prodded around in their business. We didn’t need to figure out much else when we ended up finding one of Kellogg’s lost contracts left behind.”

Still, there was so much she still had to take in. Her brother hated her because she was… Was never theirs. She was a foster kid just like him, but she was a fucking orphan  
and his parents died because of her. She was a walking target. Her eyes slowly widened. They’d find her here. “Fuck.” She whispered, flicking her eyes up from under her lashes when she tilted her chin up to look at the man in front of her. The man she really, really loved. Drawing her hands up she cupped his face whispering, “They’re gonna find me. They have more than a business deal. I’m a whole threat.”

“More like a weapon.” The Minutemen general muttered under his breath.

Hancock had no fear at all in him it seemed, and if it was there, he didn’t show it. “We’ve killed them bastards once,” He mentioned with a look so prideful, she actually wanted to smack him for it. “We’ll do it again.”

“Leaving them alive was a mistake.” She said, moving to just lean against him now, instead of being between the two of them. The dark haired dude in front of her bowed his head muttering, “I wanted to reduce casualties, out of respect for my son.” He added darkly. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand if you weren’t in my shoes.”

While Hancock couldn’t disagree, he also couldn’t agree. Shaun was long gone, and there was no reason for them to be soft this go round. The guilt that she’d been running from struck her right in the face like a professional boxer taking out his opponent. The mayor caught the look - the way her eyebrows pulled together and she inherently sucked in a breath sharp enough to make a sound. His arm went around her waist, squeezing her hip to get her attention,

Right now though, she was fighting off tremors. She couldn’t look him in the eyes and tell him it was nothing because it was a whole lotta something. “You’re right.” She whispered, showing him a tiny smile. “I appreciate you guys jus’... tryin’ to talk, but. I’m exhausted.” Excusing herself without another word she went to take a step to the door when she remembered her bed was really right there. “I want to sleep.” She announced.

Hancock studied her with an abrasive side eye with a helping of “you’re full of shit”. “All right, love.” He said after a moment of staring at her, and her avoiding his gaze like a ghoul STD. She turned, and he caught her pinky with his. “You know you’re safe here, right?” He whispered in her ear, kissing above it.

She smiled a little, it was a quick flick of the corner of her lips, but it was there. So was the minuscule sparkle in her eyes. “I know. I just need to be alone, we will uh…” She drew her eyes over to where Nate stood, awkwardly shuffling through the piles of paper in the office he just had to move to their lovemaking bedroom. “We’ll catch up later.” And with that, both men understood now was no time to question and not move.

Once alone, she fell back on the bed throwing the pillow over her face wishing for once, for once, she had the strength to suffocate herself so the fact Shaun was alive wouldn’t.

Rowan finally came out of hiding around ten that night. She wore one of John’s t-shirts and a pair of cotton shorts she found. Her hair was pulled into a braid to keep it out of her face and make it easy for her to nap her problems away on. She poked in her head to see if Hancock was still in his office. “You’re finally awake.” He spoke from behind her.

“Gah!” She yelped, whirling around to face him. She relaxed a little when she found him in an actual button up, and nice fitted pants. “Did you..?” Rowan breathed in disbelief following the smooth outfit down to his feet. Actual loafers - and in good condition. She followed up his fit and lean body, all the way up to the - dare she say - bashful expression written on his face.

Her eyebrows immediately pulled together, mouth opening when he said, “How do I look?” His mouth forming that shit eating grin full of newly brushed teeth too.

“You look really good.” She laughed, effortless when he literally looked the definition of a million bucks strapped up to the neck in a suit and tie. Well… Button up and tie, but hey, it worked. He looked damn good. “Just a little different without ya big fancy hat.” She taunted, kissing his cheek when she leaned up to hug his neck.

It felt so nice to feel her warmth on him again. She looked better too, besides the swollen eyes. “What’s the occasion?” She asked, head resting on his shoulder. “Is your girlfriend in town?”

“Don’t tell her you’re here, she might get little jealous.” He smoothed his hands down her back, feeling her arch right back into it with a happy little moan. He observed her and that lazy little content smile taking upon her face. He loved how cute her lips pouted when she leaned on him with all her weight in the face. “But, you do need to get dressed.” He told her. “Surprised you didn’t put it on when you got up.”

“Put what on?” She yanked away immediately, holding him by the shoulders when she took him in with those wide unique eyes of hers. They were green enough for him to get sucked in like a radiated bath. “I didn’t see anything when I got up.” She admitted. “I came looking for you.”

He wanted to pretend to be mad, but even that statement alone made him stop himself and laugh. Laugh, because Rowan really had no idea how pure her idea of love for him was. The first thing she did when she broke her eyes to the new dawn of a new moment, her first thought was him. Funny, usually his was to pee. “Well,” He managed to gasp after his fits of chuckles, “There’s a little somethin’ hangin’ up on the back of the door.”

He turned her around commanding, “Get dressed. Meet me at the door when you’re ready.” He kissed her again when she turned to ask a question, to figure out what had even gotten into his head. She groaned when he walked down the stairs yelling, “Don’t take too long either. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

She’d heard all her life in the vault that green really fit her. She didn’t see it, honestly. The first time she wore a red dress was for a ballet recital. Her brother called her a whore deeming her a harlot because only “hoochies” wore red. Red dress, red lipstick, and god forbid if the woman had shiny red pumps for shoes too. So, when she spotted the red lace dress, her eyes about bulged out of her head. “W-what’?” She sputtered spastically, tearing the clothing off its hanger to furthermore inspect the detailing around the neckline. Strapless.

Moving into the full-length mirror, she shredded off her the t-shirt, keeping the shorts just because she was known for flashing after too much wine. Sucking on her lower lip anxiously, she shrugged on the dress watching how it fell around her like it had been professionally fit. Maybe Hancock really did know her body that well at this point in their relationship. She made a note to ask him about it.

The flowing lace sleeves covered her arms, and it hugged her curves too well. It was simple, but the detailing and how good she looked having an off the shoulder top it… it made her look… Graceful. Rowan almost squealed, when she remembered, though, she didn’t have any kind of shoes to match. Looking down below where the dress hung, a box sat. “You just think of everything don'tcha?” She hummed to herself, her heart feeling so full of love for this man.

Flats. She sighed in relief. She’d break her fucking neck in some pumps. She undid her braid finger combing it helplessly until it fell to something just… Elegant. Nibbling her lip taking her full self in, she followed the curls of the patterns. Her breasts were on full display under the thin beading, but she couldn’t complain. She felt a million bucks. She added some lipstick and a little bit of mascara because, by the looks of it, tonight was gonna be a dress up and play kind of night.

It’d been ten minutes since Rowan disappeared upstairs, and Hancock had to admit, this whole intimacy stuff was actually a little off-putting because he never made such an effort for someone he loved. The meaning behind this was so entirely different than when he did it casually before her. He heard the door crack, and he grinned with excitement to finally see this dress on her. Fahrenheit, surprisingly enough, picked it out herself.

And goddamn did she look too entirely fuck-able in this thing.

She exposed herself at the top of the stairs looking like an old-school pinup beauty. Her dark auburn hair was pulled up halfway, and she ends in waves from where she had the hair braided. Her soft lips were full of color highlighting her fair complexion. But that little bit of darker color around her eyes highlighted the gold under the swirling green pool of emotion. “Don’t stare at me like that.” She laughed, turning to hide the blush creeping on her face.

“Do ya know how breathtaking you look tonight?” He breathed. She turned on the tip of her toes making the dress swirl some. She gripped the skirt with a delighted grin, flexing her throat excitedly when she practically pranced down to meet him. He took her by the arms and slammed their lips together in a kiss so romantically passionate it should have been fuckin’ illegal.

He didn’t care if he had lipstick smudged on his teeth, he wanted her in every way right now. When he pulled back, she was panting, her eyes taking the dangerous bedroom stare. “Save it for later, I wanna make you feel as loved as you really are.” He brushed her hair behind her ear, longingly leading his finger down her cheek just to watch how she always leaned into him.

“It’s hard to do when you kiss me like that.” She purred, hugging his neck. “But, you said we have plans?”  
Goodneighbor was always lively, buzzing, electric currents of excitement always coursing through your veins. Rowan lived for the city life when she wasn’t begging for more out of life and leaving everything behind. Hancock felt truly intoxicated because of her. Sure, he had a few, but nothing to throw him off from wanting to remember these moments. His arm was hooked through hers as they walked past a young drifter couple wearing matching eye patches but on opposite eyes. They acknowledged her when they caught her staring, and she grinned at them. “Hey.” She tugged on his arm a little, and he looked down at her. “Check them out.”

She nodded to them, and they waved excitedly back at him. “Hi, mayor!” The one with the green mohawk welcomed him with an ecstatic wave. His boyfriend swatted at him mumbling something to him, but his eyes quickly slid down to where Rowan stood. Green haired dude gasped, looking to her with wide shocked eyes. “That’s Rowan? The cool chick with the eyes everyone has been talking about?” He got up as if to approach her, and she felt sick.

Seeing the tint of green to her golden complexion he knew immediately she wasn’t acclimated to the new sorts of attention she was getting. “Let’s get goin’.” He murmured to her, leading her back behind the alley of Daisy’s little shop. Bobbi’s place had been empty for a while, and with her completely wrecking the place by that god awful hole she dug, he wasn’t willing to sell it until they got it all fixed up.

It was hard to do until he closed the wall. There was so much space, both he, and Marowski, were confused as to how they were gonna turn this whole place into something profitable. He was completely lost until he met Rowan. And like everything else, it fell into place. Opening the door, he exposed the darkened staircase. “Uh…” she hesitated, staring down at the vast sea of darkness that crept up the dimly lit staircase from the light above them. “This isn’t some kind of sacrifice is it?”

He shook his head in disbelief, “That’s more your cup of tea.” But led the way regardless, keeping her behind him like all gentlemen do for their lady loves. Their footsteps echoed off the caked up walls that made it appear as if they struggled to hide a cleanup operation in here. Probably was. Once Hancock’s loafers touched the bottom he said, “Now. Before I do this,” He began turning to stare at her with a warm smile that filled his whole face with a golden hue, “Goodneighbor was having a hard time when it came to education.”

Rowan searched his face, nibbling on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully listening.

“Well,” He continued, flipping on the switch with a tiny snap that resembled a clap in the loud echo of the wide open space. She immediately peered around the corner to see bookshelves filled to the hilt with books. Her heart stopped all at once, taking in the beanbags thrown around, and tables to the left. “We made a library.”

She dashed off behind leaving her shoes behind disappearing into a connecting room with smaller tables. “For kids?” She asked, turning to look up at him. “Goodneighbor doesn’t have kids too often.” She turned to call out to him, finding him always just mere feet behind her. Enough space for her to observe, take it all in, sightsee. She saw something so intimate in the way he was watching her, she didn’t wanna ruin the moment. “This is… John, wow.” She mused with a soft chuckle of wonder. “This is beautiful. You found all of these, or..?”

He couldn’t even think to take credit for something so grand. “I had some help.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Heh, I'm glad you like it, though, Row.” If he could blush right now, he so would be, she thought with an audible giggle. He narrowed his eyes playfully at her. “‘S so fuckin’ funny?” He demanded incredulously.

She crossed that small distance threading their fingers together. “You. You’re so fucking… Perfect.” She summed up, pulling his arms around her so slyly. She curled her fingers along the back of his neck fixing the uneven collar, feeling along his skin when she hugged him close. There was silence between the two lovers as they embraced, and all her insecurities from earlier seemed forgotten. He didn’t make her wanna hide.

He was grinning so hard his face was gonna break. He thought he heard a sniffle or two, but let this one go because he knew he gave her a taste of home. He settled whatever part of her was fighting with her. “That’s not the best part, either.” He added, pulling back just to kiss her rosy little lips. “I made us dinner, so we can do a little picnic in here.”

“Eating in the libraries are forbidden.” Purred Rowan, earning her a smack on the ass. “What?! It is!” She giggled. He set a candle in the middle of their blanket from their bedroom. Of course, there was a bottle of wine, and whiskey for himself since he didn’t like fancy fruity stuff. Wrapped up in a thin plastic bag was some of his homemade Brahmin stew since he knew her stomach would be unsettled for the next few days due to her breakdown. Her anxiety always settled in her stomach, but he’d keep her good and healthy.

The two enjoyed every second, soaking up every minute, second, and millisecond together. He’d find her attention wandering to all the colors around her, and the librarian post right in the middle of the room, terminals on tables to the far left, too, for whatever public use it deemed purposeful, she supposed. Hancock was drinking in every single smile she gave out to replace the image of the sad person he met this morning. Hancock couldn’t lie, he had a huge problem with the fact that she hated herself for problems beyond her control.

He knew how it felt to run from every good thing you had, and he saw her love for everything in the way she took time in taking in people, healing them. She was so strong too. To face everything she had the past few weeks. He droned out of the conversation, totally enveloped in the dramatic ways she waved her arms to a story, to the silence when she’d sprint up to pick up a book, just to show him passage and put it back. He’d do anything to keep her feeling like this for just a little while longer.

“You’re not even listening.” She huffed. Smacking him on the head as she passed by him she said, “You get really distracted, very easily.” She commented. “So that tells me you’ve had enough to drink for a little.” Her back was to him as she searched for the correct place, standing on the balls of bare feet and pink little toes. He was so gone for her, and she truly had no clue. Coming up behind her, his arms looped around her and he immediately attacked the neck that greeted him when Rowan tumbled forward. She caught herself and gave him a look that was all talk and no action.

She lowered herself, trying to escape the mass amount of butterflies springing up in the paper thin way he kissed her ever so tender skin. “I don’t see how you can’t love who you are.” He mumbled on her skin. “You have no fuckin’ idea how much color you’ve brought in my life, little red.”

She tensed up like a stiff board swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. She could name many reasons. “Hey, now, don’t do that.” He took her hands turning her to face him, cupping her chin, “You. Are single-handedly the most exquisite kind of drug I got my hands on. I dreamed of findin’ someone like my pa had my ma. I didn’t have any hope for me…” the shadows under his eyes when he said it made her shiver from a sudden cold chill.

“But, you… You popped up in my life, ran off with my baby gravy, and my heart. I fell in love with that young girl who knew no better, I wasn’t exactly nice to ya, either.” He added, admitting defeat on the part he never should have swindled the heart of an eighteen-year-old. “You have overcome a lot, a lot that…Ten years later, I still find myself havin’ a little bit of a rough patch with. Ya feel?”

She bit the corner of her lower lip with her eyebrows pulled together in the middle, pure confusion written all over her expression. “What’s that?” She asked. “You’re always telling me to open up.”

“I ain’t got nothin’ to hide from ya, Doe.” He said with a smile. “Nah, it’s… My morality, I’m not a good man. You and I both know this. I hate the way I turned out because I wanted to die. You hate yourself because ya got some freaky powers and cool as shit eyeballs and a few daddy issues,”

The conversation took a darker turn than she really intended it too. The last thing she wanted to imagine was a drugged to fuck Hancock actually skin and bones, the drugs ate up his brain so much he done went feral- His hands cupped her face with some kind of power of certainty. “What’s been done to ya doesn’t make ya. Ya traveled the wasteland, Row. I know ya learned that.” he smoothed her hair away from her gorgeous face, kissing the apples of her cheeks.

“It’s different when you didn’t know if you were gonna make it home or not.” Her voice was level, but her eyes held a grim understanding. “I accepted my fate. It was knowing I came back.” I’ve changed, she thought.

“What matters,” He said loudly to emphasize, “Is you’re here, we are. The world ended, both of ours did, and restarted again.” Curling his fingers around hers, he met the double russet eyes with nothing but pure adoration, “Why don’t we start this freakshow together, eh?”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been gone my dudes, I'm sorry. I didn't know where this fic was going, or why. I got insanely unmotivated on top of that, too, but. I'm hoping you guys like it anf if you guys could leave some feedback i really really appreciate it. Now, I'mma light this J, and go enjoy myself a nap.

His lungs throbbed from wheezing through cigarettes, but John was adamant on staying droned out of his cognizance tonight. Nothing was awry, everything had been so tense with Rowan and her goings-on, and now it was time to recline. She has loafed out transversely on a chair in a combo of shorts and a black tank top that barely masked her jaunty breasts present beneath the thin cloth fabric.

Her dazed russet eyes gazed back at him, not comprehending him at all. Her perceptions were hazed, her lips in a delicate mute smirk he couldn’t get enough of. Her smooth hair titillated the ground coloring it amber treacle.

He chuckled to himself, pushing himself up away from the balcony of the statehouse, walking forward some to get to her. Rowan seemed to snap out of it feeling the whoosh of the wind from John’s frock hurried to front her face. Her double eyes flashed back to consciousness and her smile stretched with the center on him. He savored it when he stooped down next to her and she already had her lips pressed against his mouth in such a mere, natural eloquence of love.

He strung his gnarled fingers into the back of her hair just to keep her confined, extracting back to look into her bizarre pair of orbs he sought for every morning. “Ya feelin’ alright, Doe?” He directed, snickering when she nonchalantly whisked her fingertips along one of the blemishes on his cheeks.

Her smile was as ingrained as a curve in the Riverbend. Each speck of color in her eyes was like the field in spring, the rust-colored the shriveled stagnant leaves still flopping around from fall adorning it with such a musky grace.

She smirked, it was a smooth flick of her lips, “‘M great.” She uttered in an ecstatic high. Rowan was a whole distinct species of consummation, one Hancock still had strain explaining how he obtained her and cached her to himself.

He caressed her forehead with his lips on her freckled forehead mumbling, “Ya ready for ‘another hit?” Tucking her locks behind her ear pacing back some from where he was hunching to eyeball her curiously.

“Don’t you ever ask that question.” She smiled like it was the actual funniest thing she’d ever apprehended. “John, I’m always ready.” Mostly because she knew he’d keep watch over her, if she got any addictions, there he’d be ready to push her through detox until she’d be okay anew. It hasn’t occurred yet, she was notably immeasurable about it herself.

The ghoul rocked his head with a joyful whirred up smile believing his intellect could maneuver his body somehow because he didn’t feel in government of himself presently. He wistfully caught the soft little tendrils of Rowan’s melodious song conveying a timbre on the radio and he thought, for a second, this is exactly what heaven was. He wasn’t a holy man by far, but this altered his mind on the idea. His waders carried conspicuously in the benumbed room, but Rowan was too far gone to even catch her own solicitudes right now.

Grabbing the inhaler, he said, “Ya know, ‘m astounded you actually ended up liking this stuff.” Peering over at her with obsidian eyes that rocked with deviousness.

Rowan’s chestnut eyebrow cocked up at him muttering, “Neither did I.” She stated honestly, her dainty polished toes tickling the chem steamed studio when she stretched like a Cheshire. He placed the inhaler in her mouth following her passionately moving yawn and he caught the springs of goosebumps on her wounded arms. Her lush eyelashes sank down on her freckled cheeks, and he kissed the tip of her nose muttering, “Ya need to breathe it out, kid.” As a considerate suggestion to not pass out like last time.

She emitted all at once and laughed, regarding him as he necessitated a bigger hit than her, principally because she was pretty drugged as it was. And he wasn’t gonna get his tiny angel pinned on a chem that’d convert her endlessly from him, and maltreat her further. “Have I ever told ya how much I love you?” She questioned him ignorantly, hugging her neck when he bent down to kiss her once repeatedly. It became a manner, instead of taking shots, he’d seek her pretty face out instead. He drank her in like hot bourbon.

“Plenty of times.” He remarked with a quirky little simper on his face. “And I love hearin’ good things ‘bout myself.”

Rolling her eyes, she elbowed him back just to propel herself to stand, just to drive herself on the sofa instead sputtering, “C’mere.” With her arms held out to him.

Hancock pitched her for a moment, scrutinizing each portion of her muscled, ripped, and battered body unravel for him in such an unadulterated blissful pose. Her legs were abundant and bronzed, shredded upon the knees with multiple scabs and wounds, but still elegantly sunkissed from how she still sustained a skincare routine even when beautifiers weren’t too much in prevalence around these days. The shorts rode up to expose a little bit of her pretty little ass he admired so much.

Her rounded cute little belly button was bared, along with abrasions from their ruckus love making peeping out from the waistband of the cotton apparel. He followed up to her perky breasts on full display, having to suck in a breath at the rise and fall of each breath she took. He followed to her full vicious lips guarding a sharp silver tongue, and genius knowledge. Hancock made his way to her eyes to find them falling shut, and he knew she was gone like the wind.

He walked over, thankful for once to be stripped down to just a simple pair of sweatpants and a simple shirt, his usual attire was drying on the line hanging off the balcony. He rested there on top of her, fitting his head there on Rowan’s chest, her one leg propping up for him to fit comfortably between. It was just the two of them, the radio, and their soft breathing. Her arms dropped around him naturally, her fingers softly grazing the back of his head in sensitive strokes.

Hancock had to gulp the lump in his throat unsure of where this sudden spout of emotion sprung up with each concise swipe of her deft fingers. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry or beg her to never truly eternally part his life taking this amazing explosion of happiness with her. “Ya got anything planned for tonight?” He asked, his voice scarcely over a whisper.

“Not a thing.” She answered almost sleepily, and he turned his chin up to see her. He bit the corner of the inside of his lip when she swallowed, and he had to bite back a remark about how good his hand looks around Rowan’s pretty bruised throat. “Do you?”

“Only spendin’ time with my beloved gal.” Hancock purred back at her.

“Magnolia is at the Third Rail.” She commented absently and cracked up into fits of giggles.

Hancock just chuckled at her, slapping her with one of the throw pillows from the chair across from them. “Shut the fuck up.” He shook his head at her, kissing along her chest, welcoming her velvety surface. Rowan shifted some, plainly tolerably to make indisputable his joint wasn’t shoving inside her thigh so she could actually relish the short sprinkles of passion.

He followed up along her neck, trailing his fingers along her scalp when he approached the fine-tuned locality undeviatingly beneath her ear, snapping at it lightly. She engulfed in a whiff whining, “Must you always turn me on?” Her arms coiling encompassing his neck when the kisses commenced up to extra longing liplocks that seized her sighs away. He tasted like concentrated chems and bourbon, it executed her collapse into shivers of desire John always stirred up in her.

Their hands sauntered politely notwithstanding how smutty and indecent the kiss was getting. Her flutters came explicitly when he withdrew with a pleasing succinct slippery racket, kissing the tip of her nose, smirking at the pleasing flush creeping across her high cheekbones. “Who knew I still made ya blush?” He hummed at her.

Rowan playfully glowered at him tiredly, and he chuckled at her. “You’re in no place to be pounded out, as much as the notion sounds so, so enticing, though.” He appended in insignificant defeat.

Huffing, she whacked him with the rim of his own hat she hauled off the desk nearby. Hancock snorted muttering, “You did not,” while drawing it apart from the redhead to deposit it back on his head. As trite as his whole display was, there remained no reservation that shitty duster and cap made him precisely who he signified. She would nevermore attempt to substitute him because there was the man who held her heart.

The man who persisted with each abrupt dose of lifeblood in him. The man who treasured and glorified these townspeople like his own individual child. She cupped his face leading their lips unitedly again for extra deep kisses, clutching the rest of the jet inhaler for them to consume.

As much as Rowan preferred slacking off, there wasn’t a division of terms for it. Nate hastened to Goodneighbor the coming evening, resembling a minute more disorganized than common. She had her rear converted to the loading door from the kitchen below, a few vagrants squatting throughout and prattling as she prepared a meal that corresponded to a five-star establishment. He played in in the front entrance, scanning for her and her solely. He demanded her cooperation in hacking a pipboy, one that he obtained when he was tracking the path of a few coursers rambling about with the Railroad.

He wasn’t prepared for the plausibility that Shaun honestly hadn’t expired as he’d apprehended, and he demanded explanations. “Smells good, chef.” He commented when he proceeded up to Hancock’s right hand.

She beamed when she recognized him, her Pupula duplex eyes gazing him down with a newfound sharpness they didn’t have before when they were more… Human. It made it that much easier for him to read her in return though. She caught on to the years of age clinging onto the fine lines settling around his eyes, her worry answered by the deep bruises beneath his baby blue eyes. “What’s wrong?” She asked directly, arranging the wooden spoon down on the table near the pot she cooked in.

She inclined up against the counter, glimpsing from the drifters minding their business around her, to the General. She hunted his suddenly vacuous expression, him holding out the pipboy to her. “I think it belongs to Shaun.” And her guilt-ridden concern nosedived in her stomach like a gelatinous ass lead ballast to her toes. He seized the puppy like glitter in them, the comparable one to the way a dog tucks its tail between its legs when they got busted peeing in the house.

He opened his mouth to ask when she rotated proclaiming, “Meatballs are almost done!” Beating whatever was up in the pot. Nate harrumphed, eyeballing her uncertainly for a little while long-drawn before letting the subject slip for now.

After all, he succeeded in time for collation. He shrugged off his backpack swaying upstairs to go torture Hancock, and inform him on what he found. The pipboy he dressed sat strapped to the utility belt on his waist, the fresh one counting heavy, just as Shaun’s odds of being alive was, on his mind.

Rowan was a rack of nerves, the fault of what she knew was making her nauseous, but she had no way to divulge exactly who she met, and what was going on inside the underground vault. Nate wasn’t feeble-minded, and her hours - _not days_ \- were numbered now before it would be revealed.

She hardly stirred any of her hardly stewed up meatballs, anxiously nipping on the weeping skin from her lower lip. Hancock was watching her discreetly from across the head of the table, Nate doing the same from the left a few chairs over. There was a common flush to her cheeks, the wrinkle of her brows and the way her eyes would water over - then harden.

Over.

_And over._

_And over._

Hancock wasn’t perturbed with her, he couldn’t be. Not with the ordeal, she withstood and not at all for hiding something like this. There was no apprehension in his mind that she had the counterclaims Nate needed - and with Nick’s help to hacking into the pipboy - there’d be loads for there to be specified.

The ghoul’s observation was hauled back to the redhead when her chair abraded forcefully against the already impoverished floors muttering a muffled, “Excuse me.” tearing upstairs. Nate’s eyes narrowed when he echoed her acts with a knee-jerk rabid backlash.

Hancock was on his feet, the drifters now regarding the showdown with the muted investment in the production unfolding. “Don’t you go after her like that.” He advised him warily. “Whatever she knows, you’re not gonna fuckin’ interrogate her like some fuckin' filth.” His dark beady eyes narrowed sibilating out through his teeth, “She won’t fuckin’ answer, and ya know damn well with this fuckin’... power she’s got.” He shook his head adding more fervently, “She could blow this whole place up.”

Nate contained his sneer, his nostrils flaring, hands visibly trembling at his sides as he envisioned and scrutinized the sensations flaring across the mayor’s face. Without another gleam of irresolution, he swung around the table bounding up the stairs like a bat out of hell.

_“Hey!”_ Hancock stuttered to a start, leaping onto the landing of the table to skirt himself along the covering utilizing the remnants of whatever sauce Rowan used to get him across the room quicker. He could already gather the screeching beginning - naturally, he wanted to preserve his mate. Nate wasn't his best friend right now, he was someone trying to injure his inestimable little ray of sunshine. “Nathan!” He locked out angrily.

He wasn’t welcoming it, but Rowan was already up and ready to support herself with her hands threatening to release the severe globe of flaming vehemence right at him. “Calm down!” She bellowed, the panic written all over her face. “I-I haven’t done anything wrong,” She reminded him. “If you got something you wanna know, then ask me!”

“You know about Shaun!” He challenged over the sound of troubled murmurs from the crowd outside. _“He’s alive, isn’t he?”_

Hancock was expeditious to slam and obstruct the doors, whipping around with his full tail strengthened up against it, watching the terrified eyes of Rowan petitioning for help from him. “ _Calm down_ , the both of you,” Hancock commanded. “Rowan, stop it. I’m not gonna let him hurt you.”

“I’ll take both of you down.” Nate challenged.

Rowan’s eyes protruded wide, now enthralled by the intrepid claims of him imagining he could even believe of maltreating Hancock. The flares flew right at him, and he moved his neck just in time to miss it, “You _knew_ about it!” Nate roared indignantly, stomping over to grab for something - _anything_ \- and destroy her. “He’s _alive_ and you didn’t say shit!”

Hancock hurled himself at Nate’s back tackling him to the ground with a sure-fire thud, “Stop it! This isn’t her fault.” He spat through his teeth, ready to knock his ass out if he fought him on any of this. He had the butt of his gun hovering just mere centimeters above the back of his head. “If I gotta go grab Fahrenheit, it ain’t gonna be pretty.” He cautioned, meaning every bit of it. “So chill the absolute fuck out, homie.”

Rowan believed she was the most contrite person on the planet, honorably. Kenning something this big, for such a good dynamics of time… She swallowed the heavy crystal choking her up battling back the role of bile foundering over and over in her abdomen. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, detecting the strength to speak so minimally because her head was a hodgepodge, and now she was itching for a little something that carded her brain into line while numbing her to everything else around her. “Nate, I…” She reached out to him, Hancock wrenching out a hand to stop her before he lowered it stable.

Nate bucked Hancock off of him glaring her down with piercing eyes that scorched a huge part of her heart. “I don’t want to fuckin’ hear it, Rowan.” He expectorated venomously, stomping over to tower over her, “I want to know everything you know. Once Nick arrives, I wanna understand everything you identify, you saw, underwent.”

Trouble instantly coated the mayor’s face, mirroring the doubt etched in the crevice of Rowan’s youthful face, “Nate, that’s not fuckin’ fair-”

“Leave no detail out.” The general dispute at her feet, Nate’s face one of a stranger, “You’re no friend of mine. A friend wouldn’t even think,” He laughed as short and as curt as a sharp dagger between the ribs, “Of hiding some shit like that.” And stalked out the room damn near wrenching the door off the hinges they were attached to.

Rowan stared behind him feeling all so squalid, even when Hancock’s arms proceeded to encompass her. She felt like the true Commonwealth pollution Nate blamed her of being. She was far too desolated to talk. “He didn’t mean it,” Hancock susurrated, undergoing something similar to dread crawling in his gut. “Is he alive, though?” His voice rasped out, it was muted, it snaked up her spine stimulating her eardrum when she latched onto the negativity thriving in the room like a flower in spring.

Rowan felt like the anchor of the world was on her shoulders, “He’s very much alive.” she stared at the middle of the wall from over her lover’s shoulder when he clung to her, thankful that she made it out alive from the rebound. Though, as he held the beautiful woman he lusted, he cherished so much, he couldn’t help but be wary of exactly why they let her be found. He couldn’t help but to toe the line as to why, if the Institute was still alive and well, why Rowan was still standing right here now.

She felt the rigidity way her boyfriend straightened up, the way his arms went slack a little. She stepped back, not at all meeting his eyes, lowering herself down to the end of the bed. She hugged her own arms fighting off the chilly bolts of lightning flush her body from her heavy heart. For once, Hancock didn’t know what to say. “Do ya wanna talk before Nick gets here..?” He asked her, kneeling down in front of her when she lowered her head to hide under the curtain of thick hair.

“I told you guys everything I _knew_ already.” Her voice was so low he almost didn’t pick it up. “Shaun was only around for a few times, he looks so much like Nate, I-I…” Huffing, she threw her hands up in the air, “It's not that I didn’t _want_ to tell him," Her sparkling eyes met his, and his heart panged violently at how depserately helpless she appeared, "I didn’t have the right time to.”

Hancock felt lousy being in the heart of this. He could conjecture Nate’s response very well, though maybe a bit unrelenting than he expected, he could surmise. They strived so hard the first time to shut the shit down. Nate’s error was giving the Institute’s members a chance to escape. His wrongdoing was letting them live.

To Rowan, it felt more like an interrogation, even with the compassionate way Nick’s optics patrolled her face. He had no dilemma picking up on the way her eyebrows permanently pulled together in the middle, and how she stretched at the shirt she was wearing. Her fingers couldn’t stop fiddling. Hancock touched her fingers no doubt knowing his partner’s anxiety. She didn’t look at him, and she tensed up when he grabbed for her.

Nate occupied behind Valentine’s shoulder penetrating the evil way he glowered her down, steadily. She felt all but three centimeters tall. “Guess we better get on with the interview then.” Said the synth, fluffing his duster as he shuffled the chair he sat in closer to the desk. He gave a departing glance to a jet inhaler left over, Hancock shrugged in reply. Neither missed the shuddering sigh Rowan released.

“Fine.” Came her penitent whisper, carding her fingers through her dark red locks. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Nate never should have uncovered that pipboy.

Rowan should have never been the foundation of weaponry examination.

All four personalities in the quarters were overawed when Valentine, hunched over the filtering growing light of a pipboy, achieved to produce up the eliminated holotapes pertaining to no one other than Shaun himself. When his whistle sliced through the room, Rowan rapidly wasted her stomach, and Nate’s commentary became one of undecipherable credit. “Guess your story checks out, Rowan.” Nick’s speech sounded out over her burping out barf.

Hancock tied her hair back while she purged her paunch into the garbage can, husbanding a hand on her posterior emitting kindness through her bitter being. “Now, the only question I have left is,” Nate’s echoing grin was as iniquitous and as frosty as the impromptu bite in the room, “Why were they were so close to Sanctuary?”

Inspecting the general with penetrating glowing yellow eyes, he twisted his optics with a whizz to the collection of received holotapes. Zooming in, he ticked on one of the most recent cassettes, a combination of data of other synthetic experiments they were carrying out no doubt, but they all had to know why. Or what they were up to, still.

Shaun’s prolific voice rung out as poised and trained as a lawyer, “ _Reports of Rogue experiment S33 has reached our base.”_ Said he, Everyone in the room yielding a glimpse as Hancock lowered his lover down onto the couch exerting hold of one of her steel-clad hands as a way to let her know, he was there. _“He’s developed his abilities of telekinesis, way beyond what we can control. I’ve sent Fairchild out to hunt him down, but no one has heard from him in a record of two weeks, three days over what the project deadline was.”_

All breath left Rowan’s individual and her ribs swiftly constricted her internal, distended organs. Nate’s eyes intersected a scanty route to the cowering redhead sizeably bowed over in Hancock’s side. He exhibited severe weakness suddenly, particularly when he heard the faint tiny drones the mayor continued encouraging to her in an attempt to soothe the swiftly sick woman. “So ya ain’t the only one to have some kind of kickass ability,” Hancock stated, “That helps, right?”

_“I’ll use his recall code, bring him back so we can use his help in bringing a new order to the Commonwealth.”_ There transpired a long pause, and Nick turned to swing over to the next tape when it erupted in fierce gunfire ejecting the small room into a war reenactment before he could do so, _“Experiment S33 has been vanquished. All that remains is S4 and S45._ ”

Human experiments. The idea that Rowan wasn’t the only one with psychic abilities implied more worrying than it stood helpfully, and when she peered up to her lover’s face for answers, his jaw remained drawn tight and his eyes were forward on the detective, and the general all watching her now. “He can’t mean me, can he?” She whispered in horror. “Just two of us?”

“I’m startin’ to wonder who the other one is,” Hancock said, mostly to himself.

“Well, doll,” Nick said flipping a cigarette between the cracked plastic plates for his mouth, “Seems like there’s gonna be more to this than we all thought, huh?”

Nate had no reaction but stormed out of the room shoving one of the office doors off a corner of its hinges.


End file.
